Crushed
by Lady Savage
Summary: Post Crush S5: Following a potential lead on Glory, Willow and Tara attempt a spell to a God to remake an item lost in the past. Of course, yet another of Willow's spells goes wrong, and something, or someone, else is recreated instead...
1. Spells shouldn't be interrupted

**A/N:** _I always thought Human Spike [William] was a really sweet guy. I also always thought Joyce shouldn't have died. As such, I am writing this new story to rewrite Season 5. Oh, and yes I did steal some dialogue from later episodes and will continue to do so. I don't plan to make Glory disappear, for example.  
_**Timeline:**_ Post Crush, the day after Spike's romantic plan to kill either Buffy or Drusilla to prove his love to the other.  
_**Disclaimer: **_Sadly, they are not mine. Not even poor little William, bless his little British heart. Nothing was hurt during the writing of this fic except my pet goldfish, but that was a non-fic related incident involving a hairdryer..._

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**_.:CRUSHED:._**

**Spells shouldn't be interrupted...**

Rupert Giles, ex-Watcher, ex-man-of-leisure, current shop-owner, looked at the two witches in confusion. Willow and Tara had come to the Magic Box earlier, both flushed with excitement. All he could gather so far was that they had found what could be a clue about Glory or the Key.

Cleaning the lens of his glasses, mostly to buy a moment in which to think, and looked at the two girls again. Willow Rosenberg, who he'd known for almost five years, had changed a great deal since he first knew her. She had grown, in more ways than one. She was more confident now, more comfortable in her own skin and it made her comfortable to share her warm and inquisitive nature with the world. She still wore different clothes than most girls- women, he corrected himself- her age, but her bright red hair and eclectic taste in clothes seemed to fit her.

Tara Maclay, Willow's lover, was a voluptuous girl, not that Giles had noticed this in any way, with bright blue eyes, dirty blonde hair and lips maybe just a tad too big for her face. A very shy girl, especially when she first met Giles and Willow's other friends, she had a serenity that fit well with Willow's excited energy.

"I'm very sorry, Willow, but could you repeat what you just told me? A little more slowly?" Giles asked, his English accent accentuated by the exuberant American girls excited babbling.

"I'm sorry Giles, it's just this is so exciting! I mean, we've been looking for something on Glory or the Key since the first time Buffy first fought her, and then we find out she's actually a Hellgod after Dawnie, and not even Buffy can beat her, and the only thing we can do when she shows up is run and-"

"Willow!" Giles snapped, exasperated. He loved the young woman dearly, but the more excited she got the harder it seemingly became for her to actually make her point. Giles considered himself a patient man, when all's said and done, -and with a Slayer like Buffy, he'd had to be- but sometimes Willow was too... excited to bear.

"It's like this, Giles." Tara cut in, Willow obviously too excited to make much sense at this point. "We think we found a reference to a book that might have relevant information about Glory and the Key." This perked Giles up immeasurably. So far today had consisted of Anya complaining about Giles' business sense.

"This is excellent news! What book had the possible information?" Giles asked, genuinely curious. He, and the Council of Watchers, had been looking for anything that could help them get information on Glory, or the Key, and they had come up with nothing.

"We-ell..." Willow began, looking slightly deflated for the first time since she had arrived fifteen minutes ago, "The information was supposed to be in the Chronicles of Nemtorin-"

"The Chronicles of Nemtorin?" Giles asked in an incredulous tone. "Not only are the Chronicles lost to us, the last information anyone had on them indicated that they had been altered irreparably by a demon cult!"

"We know that Giles, but we were planning to use a spell that would bring it to us in the same condition it was in a week before it got changed." Willow beamed, looking happy that she had possibly solved Buffy's problem, not knowing enough about Glory to be able to protect Dawn and stop her.

"Willow, spells which remove things from the past or future can damage the time stream irreparably, and can cause untold havoc on millions of lives. To remove something as prominent as the Chronicles, however, could make all of us unborn. And that is one of the better scenarios!" Giles began.

Willow tried her best, and it was often helpful, but she had no sense of restraint when it came to magic. Giles had hoped that Tara, having been raised around magic, would have been more wary as to the repercussions. Perhaps Willow had convinced her it would be perfectly safe. Rather than look chastened, as Giles had expected, Willow looked frustrated instead, but instead of saying anything it was Tara who spoke.

"We know that Giles. We could make things much, much worse if we did a spell like that. It is dark magic that changes time like that. That's not what our spell does. It creates a replica of the thing named, from the time named, but it doesn't affect the thing at all. It's really a very difficult spell, but I think Willow and I can handle it. We need any advantage we can get against Glory, and it's worth the risk if it helps Buffy. With her mom still sick and all, too..." Tara trailed off, unused to voicing her opinion so strongly.

Giles cleaned his glasses again, his mind racing to see if this plan could work. A spell like that would take an incredible amount of power, but power was something Willow and Tara had in abundance. If this actually worked...

"You are sure you could work this spell?" Giles asked after a time, glasses back in place. At Willow's furiously excited nod, Giles let out a small sigh, although he was unsure whether it was relief or disappointment. "What will you need to do this spell?" he asked resignedly.

* * *

Willow stretched her arms out to her sides and looked over at Tara for reassurance. Despite what she had told Giles, she was a little worried about this spell. It was far beyond anything she had tried before, but this spell had a long ritual so less power would be used even though there would be more room for error. 

Getting the spell components from the Magic Box should have been easy. Giles owned the shop, so there should have been no problem. There wouldn't have been a problem if Giles hadn't hired Anya. The blonde ex-vengeance demon nearly had a fit when Willow had suggested that she needed a Yi'lem talisman, and that she wasn't going to pay for it.

After nearly an hour of wrangling, which was finally ended when Giles said he would pay the difference from his share of the profits, Anya stopped arguing every time they tried to get an ingredient. It was worse than when Willow had tried to do the Ball of Sunshine spell that she'd made, and Anya had managed to turn it into a summoning spell that called Olaf, a troll who wrecked The Bronze. Willow honestly had no idea what Xander saw in her.

When Tara gently squeezed her hand, Willow's mind whipped back to the present, to the highly difficult spell she was about to cast. Throwing Tara a wan smile, she tried to focus on the steps of the spell.

First she and Tara would light the candles and incense, the sage and rosemary and thyme. Then Willow and Tara would link powers, with Tara providing the anchor to this plane of existence. Then Willow would begin to chant an elaborate prayer in Ancient Zemitch, before entreating the God of Mimicry, Jhealdan, to give them the item they were after.

Looking at the clock nervously again, Willow thought about the trial ahead of her. And it was in front of her. Even though Willow loved Tara dearly, and a lot of the power involved would be from Tara, it was not Tara who risked having her brains sucked out of her ears if she mispronounced a word in the hour-long chant.

Giving a slight nod to Giles, standing in the doorway, -still unable to give up Watching, it seemed- Willow sat down on one half of the circle drawn among the elaborate patterns on the floor. Giles quietly left the training room at the back of the Magic Box, locking the door as Tara took her place opposite the redhead.

Closing her eyes, Willow began the process of meditation that would begin the ritual.

* * *

The Magic Box had been quiet since they heard Willow and Tara chanting, Anya and Giles going about business so as to not disturb the spell in any way. The slightest noise had the possibility of pulling at the witch's mind and unravelling the spell, or causing it to misfire.

Giles was off in the corner reading a musty old book, as Giles was always doing. Anya didn't understand why. It seemed that every time a new demon appeared and threatened Buffy, Sunnydale, the world or even Xander, that Giles had to go off and find a book anyway, so why bother reading them when he didn't know what he was looking for?

Anya was doing something practical. She was counting the money. The money was important. By making it, she could then exchange it for goods and/or services. That was patriotism, and that is a sign of being a good person. Anya wanted to be a good person. It had been a very long time since she had even had to try, being a Justice Demon for over 1100 years.

But now she was a useful member of society. She had a boyfriend, her lovely Xander who was so nicely formed, she had a job and she contributed to the economy of her country. Her life was good.

Oh sure, there were the almost weekly demon attacks and the bi-monthly apocalypse attempts and all the other threats associated with living on a Hellmouth, but that's what Buffy was for. She was the Slayer, and it was her job to protect them all from those things. Anya didn't exactly understand why Xander insisted they stay here, on the Hellmouth, where it was so dangerous, but Anya loved him and all the magazines say that you have to make compromises for the ones you love.

Anya looked up from the money briefly when she heard the bell above the door -after all, it could have been a paying customer- but she went back to counting her money when she say it was only Spike. The vampire was never a paying customer, and Anya suspected he stole things. He was a leech on society, like a communist.

"Hello, all. What's going on then?" Spike asked as he sauntered into the Magic Box. He seemed drastically out of place in the quaint magic shop, with his black jeans, black t-shirt, black leather duster and his bleached hair. Out of the corner of her eye, Anya watched as Giles tensed.

"You're not welcome here, Spike. Leave" Giles said, a little more forcefully than Anya thought was necessary, but she hadn't been living as a human for as long as Giles so maybe he knew what was best.

"Okay, now, I was afraid of this." Spike began in a long-suffering tone. "Misrepresentations, misunderstandings, slurs and allegations. I don't know what Buffy told you, but the thing is, the Slayer and I worked together, side by side, to get rid of Dru. Who was up to no good. And I don't mind telling you- "

"Spike ... listen to me" Giles began quietly and forcefully. Anya tried to focus on the interesting occurrence in front of her rather than the really annoying droning that Willow was doing in the other room. That magic chanting was so damned irritating.

"It's just ... I'm trying to explain. She might have said some things that sounded like I expressed some kind of feeling- " Spike said, not quite sounding convincing. Anya should know, she was an expert at covering up her faux pas after her two years adjustment phase from human to demon. Not one person who did not already know she was a demon suspected her any more.

Anya gave a small start when Giles grabbed the Vampire by the lapels of his leather jacket and slammed the attractive vampire against the shelves.

"We are not your friends." Giles began in a lethally cold voice. "We are not your way to Buffy. There is no way to Buffy. Clear out of here." He let go of the vampire. "And Spike, this thing ... get over it."

That's when Anya realised what all this was about. Giles' attitude, Buffy and Dawn's absence from the shop, Spike trying to talk his way out of something. It was all because Spike had tied Buffy up and said that if she did not say she loved him he would let his ex-lover kill her.

Anya didn't see what the big deal was. Seriously though, Spike didn't torture Buffy, although with that government chip in his head that might have been hard to do, and it's not like he'd demanded her undying love. And besides, bondage could be fun.  
  
"I don't know what you mean." Spike said in a softly insolent tone, a small smile playing at his lips.

"Yes, you do." Giles asserted. "Move the hell on."

Giving the older-looking Englishman a dirty look, Spike straightened his duster and attempted to stalk out of the Magic Box again. Anya thought the effect was ruined somewhat by the fact he tripped over his shoelace and stumbled into a shelf, his hands coming to land on an ornamental crucifix there. After a loud scream, Spike staggered backwards.

Unfortunately for the vampire and his dignity, this dropped him off the step into the lower level. Not ready for change in height, he fell back on his ass, arms pinwheeling. Which was a bad idea, because his flailing arm managed to knock the table on which all the little bottles of holy water were being kept. One fell and burst, spraying his thigh.

"Arrrrggghhh! Bloody, sodding, everlasting HELL!" The vampire cursed loudly, and it started to go downhill. Anya shot him a look of irritation. Didn't he understand that, if he made so much noise that other people called the police, there may be an investigation and large numbers of customers could be scared away?

* * *

The Ritual was nearing completion. It had taken almost two hours already and the seductive pull of the powerful magic was doing strange things to Willow's head. It was almost as if she were imagining the ritual and the magic, and her thoughts were reality.

Willow was thankful that there was silence from outside the door because she had no idea what the slightest distraction would do to her concentration now. It was time to begin the request. Willow could feel a fraction of the divine mind she was attempting to contact focus on her. Added to the strain of the repeated actions and the stress of the magic raging through her, Willow was glad she was not trying this spell again any time soon. She felt stretched tight like a rubber band almost at breaking point.

At Tara's gentle squeeze, Willow knew it was time to begin the request. Tara had made herself an anchor to keep Willow grounded, and now Willow was to request for the Chronicles of Nemtorin.

_Most Holy Jhealdan,_

_God of Imitation,_

_Hear our plea._

Willow felt her attention scrabble as the feeling of divinity increased. Her ears, straining for some sign of acknowledgement from the deity, heard a faint jingle, but it was unimportant.

_We wish to make a request._

_We make our entreaty to you._

_The thing we seek is from a time long past,_

Voices in the background, from beyond the door. Male, English, mature. He is also unimportant.

_We wish for you to bring_

_A replica, a copy, an imitation_

_Of the thing we seek._

Another voice, male, English, angry. That is also unimportant.

_That which we seek_

_We wish to be brought_

_From a certain time._

No. That voice has some importance. That voice did something. Willow felt her mind wrenching between the spell, the deity, and the elusive knowledge of the harshly uncommon accent from beyond the locked door, beyond the spell.

_The time we ask for_

_Is that time a week before_

_The demonic corruption_

_Of what is asked._

The voice. It did something to someone important to her. Not Tara, she is here. Buffy. The owner of that voice did something to Buffy.

_That which is asked_

The owner of that voice chained Buffy to a wall. The owner of that voice has done nothing but villainy.

_Was at one time called_

Who was it? Willow felt her mind bend to name this voice, this foul offender.

"Spike" Willow hissed, before the magic finished, and unbent, became undone. She felt a wave of exhaustion and nausea before the world went black.


	2. Magical whiplash

Disclaimer: _They're all mine! Who's going to stop me from claiming them as my own? Joss Whedon (et al) and their lawyers? Hah! I scoff at your logical and reasonable conclusion!_

Last **time, on Crushed**: Willow and Tara found a spell that would replicate any item from the past and place it in the present. They planned to use this spell to summon a book, destroyed and hidden by demons many, many years ago that may have information on Glory and/or the Key. Unfortunately, Spike and Giles' argument about Spike loving Buffy, and Spike accidentally touching a cross and spilling some holy water on his thigh, broke Willow's concentration. Poor Spike, he takes such a beating...

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Magical whiplash

Spike was an annoyed vampire. Very annoyed. Furious, even. The list of reasons as to why was long. Buffy, Dru leaving, Buffy, the sodding chip in his brain, Buffy, the stupid git Watcher, Buffy, stupid bloody crosses and holy water, Buffy, stupid sodding de-invite spells... did he mention Buffy?

Problem was, he loved her. Not that she could see that. Her and her high and mighty friends turn their noses up at him when he has feelings, but as soon as they need some extra muscle or a handy bloody meat puppet, Good Ole Spike is more than man enough for them then.

And now Spike couldn't even stop by and see Joyce and the Nibblet. Those birds were all right. Not his Buffy, but they were more part of her life than anyone else and it made him feel good to be friends with them. If the Watcher knew about the 'chain-Buffy-to-the-wall-until-she-admits-there-may-be-something-between-them' plan, then Buffy had sure as hell told her mum.

The plan, -which had been stupid, Spike was man enough to admit it- had backfired in the worst possible way. At least before he had threatened to feed Buffy to Dru -and Spike still didn't see what was so bad about that. Ok, sure, he'd offered to feed Buffy to his ex, but he was going to kill Drusilla if all Buffy had said was maybe_, maybe,_ some day in the far distant future there might have been a thing- he could have hung around her precious bloody Scoobies and the Bit, occasionally even her mum.

Then he goes and embarrasses himself in front of the Watcher and the demon-girl. What kind of master vampire was he? He tripped over his shoelaces, -his bloody shoelaces! - braced himself against a cross and then falls back and knocked a vial of holy water onto himself.

Only reason the pathetic old man Watcher hadn't thrown him out was the massive shockwave that knocked half the things of the shelves in the shop. Luckily, no more holy water landed on him.

While Spike had been busy extricating himself from the mess of frog's eyes and chickens feet, the Watcher had run over to the training room and put his head inside. Then the Watcher had started muttering quiet 'Oh dear God" and 'Oh dear Lord" over and over. When the Watcher had told the demon girl to call Buffy and tell her to come over immediately, Spike decided to make himself scarce.

While he'd give almost anything just to watch Buffy, he wouldn't quite give his life at this stage. She'd probably stake him good and proper if she saw him before she'd had time to cool off. Like, four months to cool off.

Spike wondered briefly how Harmony was doing, then shook his head in disgust. No way was he that desperate. He'd just go find something to kill, instead.

* * *

Buffy was on her way to the Magic Box. Giles had called, interrupting serious mother-daughter-sister bonding time (there had even been ice cream involved!) and he expected her to come running just because he stutters Dear Lord... 

Walking through the door, Buffy felt her anger drain away completely. The place was absolutely wrecked, and there was a really bad smell. The whole place smelled like burnt flesh that had tried to be covered by really cheap deodorant.

Stepping through the wreckage on the floor, Buffy head towards the training room where she heard voices. The smooth, mellow tones of Giles accent and the harsh, clipped intonations of Anya let Buffy know they were okay.

"So, Giles. What's with the big mystery? I mean, what couldn't wait until tomo- huh?" The tiny blonde trailed off at the sight of Anya and Giles fussing over Willow, Tara and some guy. "Are Willow and Tara okay, Giles? What happened? Who's that guy? What's going on here?" she began to ramble through her worry.

Giles straightened and started to clean his glasses. He turned his head to check on the three figures stretched out on the training mats before letting out a sigh.

"Willow and Tara were attempting to do a difficult spell, that -if successful- would have summoned a book that possibly have information about Glory and the Key. Unfortunately, something went wrong with the spell and instead of summoning the book it has summoned... him."

"Okay, so that's what happened. Will they be okay? Do we need to help this guy get home? Help me out here Giles." Giles looked incredibly uncomfortable.

"Willow and Tara should be fine, although they shouldn't be casting any more spells for at least a few days. And the spell that brought this man here is a little more complicated than a simple transportation spell." At Buffy's impatient look, Giles decided that he should keep it short and sweet. "Basically, the spell created a copy of something from the past and brought it to the user, rather than risk altering history by bringing the item itself from the past."

Buffy nodded absently, looking at the man passed out on the floor. He was wearing really old-fashioned clothes or he was the saddest person alive. His hair was light brown and shaped kind of like a mushroom. He had charming little wire-rimmed glasses as well. He had a slight build and was maybe a touch on the short side. Peering closely at the mans face, Buffy gasped.

"Giles? What the hell is Spike doing in here, and what happened to his hair?"

* * *

Willow felt awful. Truly awful. Like someone had beaten her senseless with a giant boot. And then did something to make her really dizzy. It was worse than the time she had resouled Angel. She felt like she'd been turned inside out, rubbed across sandpaper then put back inside in. 

Stirring slightly and groaning loudly, Willow opened her eyes. It was a mixed blessing. On the down side, her migraine now had the element of painful light burning her brain, but on the plus side Willow could see Tara. Tara who was looking a bit exhausted, but Tara with all her bits and pieces still attached.

"Hey there, sweetie" Tara whispered, seemingly aware of the pain Willow was in. Giving her lover a warm smile, Tara helped Willow sit up. The redhead noticed that they were in their dorm room. Giving Tara a quizzical glance Willow sipped at the water that was on the bedside table. Noticing Willow's look, Tara answered the unasked question. "Buffy and Giles brought us here last night. After the spell, I mean."

"Di- did the spell work?" Willow asked in a hoarse voice, not wanting to have disappointed Buffy when things were so hard for her. Tara looked torn, slightly confused and very tired.

"Well, yes and no. The spell did work, but not the way we wanted." At Willow's horrified look, Tara hastily continued." Oh, it's nothing bad. We don't think. We're not sure. We didn't summon a copy of the book from the past. We think we summoned Spike, before he was turned."

Willow was so stunned she didn't even react when her nose started bleeding, a side effect of overusing magic.

"Where ib he?" Willow asked through the tissue being held to her face to halt the bleeding.

"Buffy and Giles tied him up in Giles' lounge room. You know, because Spike was probably a killer or something before he was turned, if he was this evil after. At least, that's what Buffy said."

* * *

William woke suddenly, as though someone had splashed water on him. He was shocked to find himself chained at the hand and foot. Clearly he had been struck on the back of the head at some stage last night, and he was now being held hostage for ransom. 

This led William to worry about his mother. His last memory before waking up was reading some of his poetry to his mother. They wouldn't have killed his mother if they were holding him for ransom, so she must be fine. Perhaps she screamed and one of the servants or neighbours came and helped her.

Looking around the room he was in, William found himself sitting on a very odd couch. There were books lying around the room, so even if his kidnappers were vile criminals they were at least civilised enough to realise the value of books. In the corner there was what looked to be a box with a sheet of black glass on it, and silver circles on one side.

The rest of what he could see without his glasses on was just an assortment of odd items, many of which he did not recognise. Struggling to sit up, William gave it up for a lost cause when he found he was not strong enough to move the chains more than a few inches at a time from this angle.

"Um, excuse me?" he called out in a wavering tone, unsure as to whether he wanted his captors to come or not. He gave another start when he heard soft footsteps behind him. He was not sure what he had expected of a captor, but it was certainly not this seemingly distinguished gentleman with glasses. Although his clothes were incredibly odd. Blue pants made of an unknown material and a shirt open, revealing his undershirt. Clearly this man was not a gentleman, to come even before a captive while not completely dressed.

"Am I to be ransomed? What do you wish to achieve by my kidnapping?" William asked in, what he thought, was a firm, even voice. In actuality, he sounded scared, the upper class English accent revealing his emotional state more than he would have liked.

"You are not kidnapped, precisely." the elderly man suggested. William's relief was enormous. At least this man came from England, and not an uncivilised place like Australia or some other minor colony. "But this story is going to be hard for you to believe. It might be best if you stay as you are until I am finished." William allowed the man a cautious nod.

"For you to understand how you came to be here, there are several things you have to know about first. Magic, demons, vampires and the like are very real." William nodded, humouring this obviously unstable man. He had managed to be kidnapped by a madman. "And the other thing is, you are no longer in your time at all."

William blinked, obviously confused. He wished he was wearing his glasses so he could see his captors face more clearly. Perhaps this was all a joke? Only, William didn't have any friends who made jokes like this. Okay, so he didn't have any friends at all, but still.

"What year do you think it is?" the man across from William asked. Giving the man an incredulous look William responded.

"It is 1880, the year of our Lord. Sir, is there a point to your ramblings? I must get home and see to my mother. She is sickly, you understand." William was gambling that this insane man was not dangerous. He had not done anything to indicate he was planning to harm William, and normally William would not even take a chance this large, but he had to see to his mother. Who else was going to look after her?

"I'm afraid that is not exactly correct. Actually, that is very far from correct. The year is 2001, and you are now in America. A spell went wrong, and we accidentally summoned you." William stared at the man warily. Clearly, he was absolutely crazy to think William daft enough to believe a magic spell took him 121 years into the future.

William opened his mouth to express that very point when the British man dropped a newspaper in front of him. His eyes bulged as he read the date. 2001. The man might not be as crazy as William had thought, if he was going to such elaborate lengths to convince him that this was the future. The man let out a sigh.

"I can see you don't believe me. Look at this." the man said, heading over to the odd cube with the black glass. Doing something to one of the silver circles on the side of the glass, he stepped back as images, people, appeared on the glass. They were talking to each other.

"That's amazing!" William expressed in awe. "This is... magic?" He stared avidly at the figures moving across the screen. His eyes flicked over to the wizard who made this happen only to see him smiling and shaking his head.

"That is not magic, I'm afraid. It is television. It is like a playhouse that almost everyone has in their own house. It is technology, completely manmade. Although it could be argued that it has certain hypnotic qualities, there is nothing magical in it's nature. Times have changed a great deal since you were born."

"So I see." William stated quietly, no longer doubting this mans word. He shifted in his seat only to be pulled short by the chains again. "Umm, would it be too much trouble to have you take these off me?" he asked in an almost pathetically hopeful tone. Giles blinked for a moment, then rushed over to the young mans aid.

"Yes of course, it appears my manners have been quite remiss. I am Rupert Giles." the older Englishman stated, extending a hand for William to shake. William stared at it blankly for a moment, no one back home ever offered him even this simple courtesy, then tentatively shook Giles' hand.

"It's very nice to meet you, Rupert. I am William-" the young man was cut off by the front door swinging open loudly. A small blonde was walking through in a hurry.

* * *

Buffy rapidly shifted through the opening area of Giles' apartment, intent on reaching the kitchen to put the ice cream her mom had made her promise to bring Giles. Buffy wasn't sure why her mom was sending Giles ice cream, she seriously hoped it wasn't some old person sex thing. It was bad enough knowing they had sex once, no twice before, during that whole Band Candy debacle, but to think of them having future sex was just oogy. 

"Hey Giles. Just putting away some ice cream my mother said she was giving you. Has our guest woken up yet?" she asked, wandering out of the little kitchenette, only to see Spike - William, she reminded herself harshly, he's a human - putting on a pair of glasses. He took one look at her, his face reddened and he instantly spun about.

"I- I- I'm dreadfully sorry. I didn't realise that you- well, that you were- I'm so very sorry." the human who had become Spike stuttered and blushed. Buffy was having a very hard time connecting the blushing, shy young man with such a Giles-like accent with the hard, arrogant, downright rude vampire with a coarse, lower class British accent.

"You're sorry? For what? What am I? Have I got something on my shirt?" Buffy asked, only vaguely worried when she realised that the third possibility she mentioned might actually be true. She had walked all the way from her house to Giles with that ice cream, and it was pretty hot outside.

"You are in your underthings, and I was looking at you. I am incredibly sorry, I hadn't realised you and Mr. Giles were married, or that you were prone to wandering the house undressed." William stuttered, fairly obviously still blushing if the back of his neck were any indication. As his words sank in, Buffy's search for an ice cream spot ceased immediately.

"You think that Giles and I are married?" she asked incredulously before starting to giggle at the absurdity of it. Giles, who had been preening over the fact William thought him young enough for a bride like Buffy, looked mildly indignant that she found the concept so funny.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry. I didn't expect anyone of your profession-" William began, still studiously staring at the wall.

"My profession? What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Buffy cut in sharply, her face expressing her absolute rage. What kind of arrogant, judgemental, narrow-minded ass thought she was a prostitute just because she was wearing her tight jeans and her favourite strappy shirt? All of a sudden the connection between Spike and this not-quite-Spike became much easier to see.

"William," Giles cut in quickly, before the situation got worse. "please remember that this is a different time to what you are used to. Women no longer wear those elaborate dresses. In fact, many women wear things considerably more revealing than what Buffy is wearing. I'm afraid it is just one of many things you will have to get used to."

Buffy felt some of her anger -but not all. A prostitute! Really. What was he thinking?- drain away as the young man turned around to face her, his expression deeply mortified. His eyes darted up to meet hers and then shied away, obviously too insecure to look her in the face and just as clearly too Victorian to look at her body.

"I'm dreadfully sorry I was so presumptuous. It is just unheard of for women in my time to wear such revealing clothes, but it was incredibly rude of me to assume the worst like I did. Please, forgive me." he said, his face still red and getting worse with every glance he flicked towards her body. Buffy smiled.

"Forgiven. Now let's start again. I'm Buffy" she said, extending her hand for him to shake. He just looked at it for a split second before flicking an incredulous look at Buffy, before taking her hand gently in his own.

"I'm William. It's a pleasure to meet you, Buffy" he murmured, brining the back of her hand to his lips for a gentle kiss.


	3. Don't judge a past by it's present

**Disclaimer:** _They aren't mine, they aren't Joss'. They belong to the little pixie who whispers the secrets of the universe in my ear. The answer to the question of life is Salted peanuts, you know._

_**Last time, on Crushed**_: _Willow woke up from her spell and found out about William. William woke up and thought Giles was crazy. Then Buffy showed up. That whole sequence of events involved chains and ice cream and prostitution, Oh My! Now that my Wizard of Oz moment is over, we can move on. Buffy and William had called a truce as we last left off, Spike was bitter that he had nothing and no-one, Giles was frustrated with Buffy and William, Willow was confusticated, let's see what happens next..._

* * *

**Don't judge a past by it's present...**

Alexander Lavelle Harris, Xander to his friends [none of whom knew about the Lavelle section of is name] was absolutely confused. He had come to the emergency Scooby meeting fully expecting some new creature feature, and what does he get? Pretty much nothing. No bad guy's, other than Glory. Who they can't fight. Heaving out a sigh, Xander asked the inevitable question.

"So why are we here? I mean, I love the wacky, insane research as much as the next guy - well, unless that guy happens to be Giles who seems to have a relationship with his books that is a little _too_ happy, if you ask me - but if there's nothing to research..." Xander trailed off quietly as none of the other Scooby's shared his confusion.

That was just great. He was the last one in on the know again. Here he is, working his butt off in the construction business and his girlfriend, Anya, doesn't even bother to inform him that there was news. Not that Xander felt inadequate at all. A carpenter is a fine thing to be. Just because he was friends with two witches, an ex-demon, a Watcher with a vast knowledge of demonology and a Slayer didn't mean he was worried about his own usefulness. Not at all.

Just as Giles, Anya, Buffy and Willow all opened their mouth to give Xander some warning about the reason for the unscheduled meeting, the reason wandered out of the back room. He was a young man, maybe only a little older than Xander himself. He was just on the short side of average, unremarkable hair, dinky little glasses. But there was something about his face that made Xander squint until...

"Spike? What the hell happened to you?" Xander asked, stifling a giggle. He looked around quickly to gauge the awareness of the others to Spike's new appearance. He saw a slight grin on Buffy's face, a twinned look of embarrassment on Willow and Tara's, a look of resigned indignity on Giles -Xander only recognised this from repeated exposure- and one of confused outrage on Spike's.

"Why does everyone insist on calling me Spike?" Spike asked. Xander blinked. Actually, come to think of it, Spike seemed an awful lot like Giles. He sounded more like him too. Looking more closely at the vampire, the carpenter noticed several things. Outside of the overall body language that just screamed nerd, the only visible thing different about him was the scar that was usually in his eyebrow was missing. Giving the world his 'huh?' face, Xander waited for the obviously Hellmouthy explanation. This time it was Giles who did the honours.

"Xander, this is not Spike. At Buffy's insistence, I'll make this short. A spell went wrong, William was brought to the future. William is Spike one week before he was turned. History will not be effected in any way." Giles recited monotonously. Xander just stared at this almost Spike. "William, this is Xander, a friend of ours."

Xander nodded amiably, if cautiously -after all, this guy did turn into Spike- and offered his hand for the other man to shake. William just looked at his hand, shocked, for about a second before smiling hesitantly and shaking his hand tentatively. Xander was utterly shocked.

This was Spike? This depressingly nerdy guy in the severely outdated clothes, who looked amazed that someone would offer to shake his hands? He made Xander and Willow's nerd days in high school appear to be the glamorous life of rockstars. And he turned into the brash, arrogant, smart-assed vampire that is Spike?

"Um, I'm terribly sorry but I only came out to see if there's any more of that delightful melted chocolate. I- if that doesn't put anybody out. I don't want to be a bother. I'm watching the most fabulous program on the television, and it was a... commercial break, did you call them? That Passions is the most amazing show. They have this little guy called Timmy..."

* * *

William was thoroughly confused. After meeting Xander, who seemed an exceedingly odd fellow even in his new world of strange things, he had grabbed another hot chocolate and almost sprinted back to the television so he didn't miss Passions. If even half the shows on the television were anywhere near that entertaining, then it was quite possibly the greatest invention ever. 

After Passions, he had wandered out to sit with the others. To his immense surprise, most of them just smiled at him. William had decided that, with a few exceptions, he liked this time much better. He missed exactly two things from his time. His mother, who was stuck in the past, and his love, his inspiration and his muse, Cecily. That hurt most of all. He had decided the night before he arrived in Sunnydale that he would tell Cecily how he felt at the Ashcroft party that was scheduled for next week.

But in this time, there were people other than his mother who wanted his company. William had no idea what they were saying for a large part of it, but it was nice to be included. While they had sat together around the big table in the Magic Box, Xander had looked at William and made an offhand comment about no longer being the worst dressed Scooby, but despite the mocking words, William doubted that Xander had any of the contempt he had faced from his peers at home.

Of course, this comment set the women of the group into a flurry of excitement. They had repeatedly mentioned the word 'mall', and when Xander had groaned, William had asked what the word meant.

"The greatest horror a man could possibly face." Xander had replied grimly. William was inclined to agree. He was in the middle of what seemed to be a tailor's shop, only all the clothes seemed premade. As William understood it, the clothes were made prior to being bought, and you had to find the size that fit you.

His confusion came into place as he heard three of the four women -Willow, Buffy and Anya- argue about what kind of clothes he should be wearing. Xander had begged off earlier in the day, and William was beginning to see why. To be perfectly honest, William did not understand what was so wrong with his current attire.

"I still say he should dress more like Spike. Spike is very pleasingly formed and William would be just as pleasant to stare at and fantasize about in black." That had to be Anya, William decided with a blush spreading across his cheeks. Times had certainly changed if a woman like her was so widely accepted.

"That image is wrong on so many levels Anya. First of all, Spike is _not_ pleasing on the eyes. With his bleached hair and 'I'm a bad boy, ask me how" attitude he is very unappealing. What we should do with William is get him into some colourful clothes, maybe see if he can get a bit of a tan. I mean, I thought you were supposed to get paler when you became a vampire, not stay the same colour-"

"I think we should get him some really colourful things." Willow cut Buffy off, mercifully to William's mind. Buffy seemed a touch... shallow. "We should expose William to us many new things as possible-' William shrank into himself as the debate raged on.

Anya seemed intent on getting William into leather and silk clothing, which seemed perfectly respectable to William, on the pretence of 'it inspires sexual activity', which had William blushing redder than he had at any time except when he had first tried to speak to Cecily.

Buffy seemed equally determined to get him into clothes that were 'cool', whatever that word meant. William was quite sure she didn't mean temperature, but William could see no other meaning for the word. Her ideals seemed to involve those pants that William had seen on Rupert when he had first awoken.

Willow, just as fanatic in her standpoint as the others, seemed intent on dressing William as some sort of gypsy, with bright, garish clothes that William would never have expected to see outside of an actor's troop.

William was getting slightly worried, as the women continued to argue. The only other person still with them was Tara, who William had found to be delightful company. She was very intelligent and she had read many of the same works as William. Rupert had begged off this little excursion saying someone needed to watch the shop, and Xander had said there was an emergency at work.

"They m-might seem a bit much, but they're really very nice." The blonde stuttered. Endearingly, William thought. He had decided that Tara was the nicest of the ladies because she was both intelligent and at least what passed for modest in this terribly scandalous age. He still turned scarlet when he saw some women walking about. Their manner of dress was positively indecent!

"That is true, without a doubt. They have known me for all of a day and they are more my friends than those who knew me my entire life. It is just that I am having some trouble adjusting. The noise is... oppressive." William states quietly, afraid his admission would lose the modicum of respect he seemed to get with the others. To his immense relief, Tara just nodded in agreement and went to whisper in Willow's ear.

* * *

Buffy lead the group back to her house after their trip to the mall. They had modernised William, and he scrubbed up well. Very well. He'd almost be yummy, if not for him being Spike. Or Spike previously having been him. However that thing worked. 

Buffy had won the debate as to which style they should dress him in, with a single concession to Anya in the form of leather pants packed in one of the bags. They had placated Willow by allowing her to pick his glasses with him. For some bizarre reason he had refused contact lenses out of hand, murmuring something in British-speak that made Giles sound positively liberal.

But now William really was almost edible. His blue jeans, white t-shirt and blue long-sleeved shirt brought out the blue in his eyes, which were framed with a tasteful pair of black-rimmed glasses. Instead of making him look geeky, they made him appear distinguished. His new hairstyle was cut short and spiked - ironically, considering the name he took only a few weeks after this William was brought to the future/present- in a very similar fashion to Angel.

They'd even convinced him to allow tips. Of course, they told him it was a very common masculine ritual that was practised by all males in today's age, but considering how 'sexually exciting', to coin a phrasing from Anya which had made him blush like a catholic schoolgirl, Buffy felt that she and the others would be allowed that little lie.

Now William was standing in the kitchen of Casa de Summers looking very nervous. But then he always looked nervous. It was really kinda cute, like a little puppy. Giving William the once-over yet again, she decided she had been right. Spike would look much better in colours.

Buffy froze, and felt her 'deer-in-headlights' impression coming on. Where had that thought come from? William was very good looking, one might go so far as to say gorgeous, but Spike? Spike was an evil, disgusting, soulless vampire who listened to punk music, bleached his hair and wore nothing but black and red! In no world do the words Spike and attractive even come close to connecting.

"W- would it be too much trouble to make some of that hot chocolate? It really is quite delightful." William asked in a hopeful tone, his faintly nervous puppy face just making Buffy want to melt and go 'awww'. Giving him a beaming smile, Buffy nodded her agreement. The tentative smile she got in return was her reward.

Busying herself in the kitchen, Buffy was almost shocked when she came out with the hot chocolates to find Anya trying to convince William to model his new leather pants and nothing else. Almost shocked; Anya is Anya after all. William had been positively mortified when he found out the nature of leather pants in this day and age.

Buffy smiled, refusing to help the young man as he stuttered and blushed his way through a conversation with Anya, his Victorian sensibilities making him turn deep crimson at almost every statement from Anya. Buffy's ears pricked up slightly when she heard the front door open.

Her fourteen-year-old sister, Dawn Summers, who was also only several months old, wandered into the kitchen. The confusing thing was that she was also the Key, mystical energy as old as time hidden in the form of a sister to the Slayer so she would protect it. Buffy wasn't sure how to take all that, but all her memories said Dawn was her sister and she felt like her sister, therefore she is her sister.

Dawn looked at William in confusion for a second, which gave way to rage, which gave way to confusion as she saw Buffy, Willow and Anya [Tara had left to go to a class] sitting with him and chatting. The conflict of emotions passing over her face was impressive for a fourteen year old. Hell, it'd be impressive on anybody.

Dawn's eyes widened as she came to the conclusion that Spike had been forgiven, seeing as she didn't know William even existed. Buffy shuddered as she remembered it was Dawn's crush on the bleached vampire that had made Buffy aware of Spike's feelings. At least, before he chained her to a wall and professed his love then threatened to feed her to Drusilla.

However, Buffy, and everyone else, were shocked at Dawn's next action, none more so than William himself. Dawn launched herself at what she thought was the vampire like a little human cannonball, her arms wrapping around his waist in a friendly hug, which Buffy suspected was a discreet attempt to cop a feel.

"Spike! It's good to see you. I've missed you."

William looked down at the girl who'd wrapped her arms around his waist with the deepest blush yet then looked up at Buffy, appealing for Buffy's aid in getting rid of the small creature attached to his hip.

* * *

**A/N:**_ I am fully aware that this seems out of character for Dawn. Wait and see, I think I have a decent explanation. If not you can alwasy abuse me by reviewing. Come on people, reviews make the world go 'round. Well, actually there's some complex maths involving gravity and mass that make the world go 'round, but other than those it is reviews._


	4. Sometimes life sucks

**A/N: **_Come on people. I'm not feeling loved. I need reviews to keep me motivated, and so far I'm only half sure one person is actually reading these. Do everyone a favour and review. Tell me what you think, even if it doesn't seem important. I'm too cheap to spring for the pay version of so I don't know if anybody is reading this or not. I need to know. So review.  
_**Disclaimer:**_None of this belongs to me, it all belongs to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, et al. Except for a pair of runners I left in Sunnydale by accident. Those are mine._

_**Last time, on Crushed:** Xander was confused. William wanted more hot chocolate before he went back to watch Passions. He likes Timmy, how sweet. Buffy, Willow, Tara and Anya all took William shopping, and they all argued about how to dress him. Except Tara of course, she's just a sweety. They went back to the Summers household and had more hot chocolate. Buffy had quasi lusty feelings about William and Spike. Dawn showed up and hugged William. Whatever happens next?_

* * *

**Sometimes life sucks**

William was awfully confused. He was aware that any change in location, let alone time, would require major adjustments but they seemed to be coming very quickly here. First the marvellous invention that is television. Passions alone makes this time worth living in. Then there was the attire that women wore on a daily basis. It was positively indecent. He saw several women's naval today!

Then there was both the uncultured speech of these Americans and this god awful weather. At least Rupert supplied some reprieve from the horrible accent. William had already been assured from four different sources that the sunshine never abated. It appeared that a nice, wet afternoon was forever lost to him.

Then there was that shopping excursion. It was simply nerve-wracking. Three of his four companions had argued over how he should be dressed, and judging from the way so many young women and even some young men had been staring at him, William was sure that whatever compromise they reached made him look like a fool. That poor woman at the beverage store had been so caught up in staring at William's clothes that he had been forced to try and order four times. He'd told the ladies that these clothes were too tight.

Now, in Buffy's kitchen, where the surprises should have stopped, an adolescent girl had just charged into him and began to hug him, murmuring some sort of message and calling him Spike. That made fourteen people who had called him Spike. Nine of those people had said it in a fearful tone and run the other way. Clearly William was doing something to make these people call him Spike.

Throwing a part apologetic, part pleading glance to Buffy, William attempted to disentangle himself from the young girl. She must have understood his intentions as she released him and backed away a few steps. William saw her look at his clothing then watched as an expression of confusion passed over her elfin features.

This only confirmed it. The assortment of clothes that had been forced upon him made him look a fool. The young girl was blushing slightly now, probably from the knowledge she had hugged someone in such ludicrous apparel. William was sure he'd seen several other young men in similar clothes, but they had all been big and muscular. He must have looked sincerely undersized. William was pulled out of his musings as he heard the young girl speaking.

"...orry about that, Spike. I mean, I know it's only been a day but you did say you were going to skip town for a little bit and I thought it would be about a week before I saw you again so I sort of started to miss you today..."

The young girl trailed off uncomfortably, looking around at William and the other people in the kitchen. William began to blush as well. The people calling him Spike had all thought he was someone else. Maybe that explained the friendship the people he had known had extended to him. He reminded them of a trusted friend.

"When did you start to wear glasses?" the young girl asked, her tone filled with confusion. "And for that matter, what's with the new look? I mean, I don't want to say it's bad or anything..." the young girl stopped speaking altogether at the amused looks on all the other women's faces.

William's blush deepened and became more noticeable. His appearance had shocked this young woman into actually mentioning his clothing when everyone else had seemed to want to avoid mentioning it. The young man gave a little jerk as he realised that everyone was staring at him now.

"I- I'm terribly sorry, but you seem to have mistaken me for someone else. My name is William." The young Englishman put out his hand hesitantly, fearing that now she knew she would scorn his friendship. His fears were concerned as the young girl just stared at him in a fascinated manner and he dropped his hand in defeat.

Buffy took charge again. She stepped forward and gave William his hot chocolate.

"William, this is my rude, annoying sister Dawn. Dawn, this is William" the blonde finished in a too sweet tone, her hazel eyes dancing in delight.

"I am _so_ not rude! You're the one who makes the salespeople go find, like, thirty pairs of shoes just because you feel like seeing what they look like."

"I do not! That happened one time. One time! and I did buy a pair of shoes for their trouble-"

"Yeah, the $10 tennis shoes that you hadn't even tried on!"

Both girls halted abruptly, Buffy's mouth still open from whatever retort she had repaired, and they both turned to look at the other people in the kitchen. Tara had an amused little smile, Willow was beaming and Anya looked incredibly bored. William felt incredibly awkward, like an interloper of some sort.

"Perhaps it would be best if I left while you..." William trailed off with a vague gesture at the two bickering sisters. William was surprised to see both sisters glance at the other then simultaneously shake their heads. Buffy stepped forward and placed a hand on his arm.

"No, don't go. We were just playing. Stay" Buffy punctuated her request with a little squeeze on William's arm. William himself nearly dropped back into his seat in shock. Not only did the heated argument between the two sisters seem to be an unremarkable thing, they actually wanted him to stay. Both of them. Even Dawn, now that she knew he wasn't this Spike.

"A- all right. I'll stay then." William lowered himself into his chair carefully, not wanting to embarrass himself. "If it's not too much trouble, can I ask who this Spike is? Almost all of you have mistaken me for him at some time or another."

Everyone in the room, except Dawn who still didn't know William's true nature, looked suddenly uncomfortable. Buffy suggested they take this to the lounge room. Everyone else seemed to agree. William began to get worried. Surely something was wrong if they felt they needed to relocate completely.

* * *

Buffy felt slightly panicky. Actually, she felt a lot panicky. William was a really sweet, charming, considerate, kind, gorgeous -Buffy put an end to that train of thought before it led to bad lusty feelings. But how do you explain to such a nice guy that he turned into an evil vampire and killed tens of thousands of innocent people?

He was just so sensitive. Like before, he'd thought she and Dawn were actually arguing. Well, ok, so maybe they were, but he'd thought it was serious. He seemed the total opposite to Spike. This poor guy seemed to be embarrassed when women stared at him. Which was totally the opposite to the bleach blond vampire who seemed to live off sexual innuendo as much as blood.

Taking a seat on the same couch as William, Buffy took a deep breath and looked around for reassurance. Dawn would be no help. Not only did she know nothing of William's arrival, she was an avid Spike fan. The only avid Spike fan, not counting Spike himself. Anya wouldn't be much help either. Ex-Vengeance Demons tended to be sympathetic to demons and vampires. Willow and Tara could be helpful, but they were probably too shy and embarrassed about their part in the whole situation.

"William, you know that the reason you are here is because of a spell that went wrong." Buffy waited for his nod, which was quick in coming. "Well, the spell copied you then brought you here, to the future. It wouldn't have worked if the spell had just brought the thing from the past because of some time changing paradox thingy.

Well, what happened to you- the other you, not the you you- was, about a week after you disappeared, a vampire named Drusilla turned you into another vampire. You earned yourself the nickname Spike by torturing people to death with a railroad spike. You spent about a hundred and twenty years killing people whenever you felt like it, until you came here.

About a year and a half ago, a government funded group put a chip in your head. A little piece of metal and plastic and stuff that made your head hurt whenever you tried to bite people. You came to us for help, then you found out you could kill other demons. You have been helping us ever since then."

Buffy finished and looked worriedly at William. The young man had paled when she mentioned how he'd gotten the nickname, and now he was just sitting there with an odd expression on his face, like he'd been sucker punched. What he said next made Buffy feel exactly like that.

"Was I good then? As a vampire, I mean. Because all of you let me, I mean him, work with you, and your sister knows him so... I thought..." William's hopeful look faded as he saw the expressions on those around him. Buffy felt really bad when she saw his hang dog expression. He had really wanted to believe that he was still good.

"No, you were definitely evil. Very evil. You tried to killed Buffy and her friends a whole bunch of times. But I forgive you, because it wasn't actually you who tried to kill my Xander, but your vampire alter ego." Anya spouted off in a matter-of-fact tone in her usual manner. Lacking tact.

"Oh, I see." William seemed really deflated. "So I wasn't even good at being evil then?" Buffy frowned. This seemed to really bother him. Not that he'd tried to kill Buffy and the others, but that he'd failed. Of course, he was probably still in shock about all of that. Buffy made a choice to try and help his ego a little bit.

"It's not that, you were really good at being evil. You sucked at making plans, but you were a good fighter. You killed two Vampire Slayers in the past century." William looked up at that, some hope shining in his eyes. The hope quickly vanished.

"But I was still couldn't kill any of you." William seemed to realise exactly how wiggy this conversation was and he glanced around the room rapidly. "Not that I wished any of you to be killed at all. It's just... I wanted to be good at something" Buffy stared at William in shock as he very quietly finished his statement.

This was the epitome of a wiggins. William, who becomes the brash, cocky, arrogant and downright insufferable vampire Spike, having a major inferiority complex. So much so he wanted to have been good at evil rather than mediocre. Buffy recalled Spike's words about Drusilla. _"She is the face of my salvation. She saved me from mediocrity."_

"Don't feel bad. Buffy is the best Slayer in recorded history She's died once before and she's killed things that were much more evil than you ever were." Anya, ever the voice of compassion, Buffy thought grimly. But rather than reassure, which is presumedly what Anya's words were meant to do, William looked horrified.

"My greatest claim was to have killed two Slayers?" At everyone's nod, he looked even more depressed. "Are all Slayers women?" He asked in a dispirited tone, already sure of the answer. "Then my greatest claim to fame was having killed two women." he finished in a defeated tone.

* * *

Spike ordered another scotch. His plan was to stay here in L.A. for two weeks, until he could be sure Buffy had gotten over his pathetic attempt to get her to admit to something between them.

This time he was going to stick to the plan. No more running off half cocked, nearly getting himself staked by the Slayer. He had put his affairs in order. Said goodbye to the Nibblet, insuring at least one friend inside the Slayers circle, he'd borrowed a large number of kittens from the local loan sharks to gamble here in L.A., all of which he'd lost only half an hour ago.

Now he was buying himself drinks from money he'd scared out of local patrons. Spike shook his head at himself. Spike, William the Bloody, vampire of the Order of Aurelius, great grand childe of Angelus, direct descendant of The Master himself, and he was stuck scaring money to buy alcohol off humans.

The once Big Bad was truly pathetic now. A vampire in love with a Vampire Slayer, a vampire unable to bite or even hurt a human. A vampire who actually says goodbye to a fifteen year old girl when he leaves town. His self esteem was in tatters. Drusilla may have saved him from mediocrity, but he just had to jump right back in, didn't he?

* * *

"He's getting stronger. I'm losing him, I'm losing control of him." Glorificus, Also known as the Beast to the Knights of Byzantium and Glory to her minions, ranted.   
  
"You're speaking of Ben, most glamorous yet tasteful one?" asked one of her chief minions, Jinx, his scabby faced creased with concern and curiosity, his long, pointed nose twitching at the opportunity of pleasing his Goddess.  
  
"He stabbed you in your body." she stated in a pained voice, her expression showing more concern at the presumption of an attack than at the injury of her minion.   
  
"Jinx is all right, your highness. And we do have the new knowledge that the key is a human being." another of her minions, Murk, tried to appease Glory before her mood turned violent and she had to sully her hand striking one of their unworthy bodies.  
  
"If time runs out on us and all we're left with is info? Then we're screwed." the God trapped in a human man's body wailed in despair.  
  
"Oh, surely not!" Jinx stated, horrified at both the thought of his God's failure and at her obvious distress.   
  
"No, we're screwed!"   
  
"But you are a god. The sacred Glorificus!" he stated, shocked that his God might fail.   
  
" I'm a god in exile. Far from the hellfires of home and ... sharing my body with an enemy that stabs my boys in their fleshy little stomachs. Uhh! I'm in pain." she wailed, melodramatically.  
  
"How can we help? We'll lay down our lives."   
  
"The Slayer and the key are connected. She's going to have contact with it. Find out who's new in her life, who's ... special, who's different. Watch her." Glory decided abruptly, her mood changes mercurial.   
  
"We can do that, O ... thou." Murk murmured, running out of superlatives at an unfortunate moment.   
  
"I want to hear about everyone she has contact with! That girl has my key ... and I'm trusting you boys to get it for me. If you love me ... get it for me." Glory said in a child's persuasive tone. Her minions nodded rapidly and ran out into the street, leaving Glory trying on her massive shoe collection.


	5. What the Hell is going on?

**A/N:** _I'm feeling a little more loved recently, but keep the reviews up. Thoughts, emotions, impressions, ideas, complaints, sexual propositions, I'll take what I can get.  
_**Disclaimer:**_ You want normal disclaimers? The kind where I just state it's not mine? You want them short and to the point? Well screw You! It'll never happen! BWA HA HA!_

**_Last time, on __Crushed:_** _William was embarrassed. Buffy and Dawn argued. William tried to leave but didn't. Spike was off in L.A. getting drunk after losing all his cash in kitten poker. Glory wanted her minions to find out someone new in Buffy's life. Then she tried on shoes. The shoes were nice. Will those shoes be imprinted into poor William's... cough?_

* * *

**What the Hell is going on here?**

Dawn was unsure as to how she should feel about William. It felt, to Dawn at least, like a betrayal of the friendship Spike and she had been forming the other day in the crypt before Buffy had showed up. On the other hand, he was just as much a hottie as Spike and he was not in love with Buffy. She thought. Dawn realised she should probably make sure.

"So, Will. You in love with Buffy?" Dawn asked the only other occupant of the lounge room in a nonchalant tone. They were watching TV. He seemed just as fascinated with it as Spike was. It was bizarre. She turned her head to see William's face and judge his reaction to the question. He just sat there red faced.

"No! I mean, no." William ducked his head, in the cutest way, when he realised how that could be taken. "Not that you're sister is an undesirable women. I'm sure she has many fine qualities that any man woul-" the young British man was cut off by a very unlady-like snort from Dawn.

"Yeah, she's a real catch all right. Every single one of her boyfriends has left her, you know. Angel, Scott, Parker and now Riley. She scares them away. It's the slayer thing. No guy likes it when his girlfriend can kick his ass." Dawn shifted in her seat so she could face William more easily.

"Um, I- I can't imagine." Dawn decided that William was just as gorgeous as Spike but in a different way. Where Spike had confidence and sex appeal coming off him in waves, William seemed shy and withdrawn, like a kitten of some kind.

"So... are you seeing anyone? Or where you? How does hat even work?" Dawn asked in a puzzled tone. Her questions were not, in any way shape or form, out of her personal interest in the possibility that this incarnation of her crush might actually be available.

"Well, not as such no. But I am in love. Or I was." At dawn's confused look, he continued. "It was... Cecily. A young lady I knew back in my own time. "I could never have told her about my feelings though. She deserved a better man than me. All I could do was write her poetry that did not do her justice. could not do her beauty, her intelligence, her life-"

"You wrote poetry?" Dawn asked, half frantic to get his attention off the girl from his past. At his nod, Dawn smiled in satisfaction. "Then maybe you could help me. I have to do some english homework on poetry, only I don't understand it." Dawn smiled when she saw William's attention return to the present.

"Of course. I'll do all I can to help. Who are you studying?" The young man's face became much more animated when he spoke of studying, Dawn noticed. A lot like that time Spike told her some of his tales from the old days, before the chip.

"I dunno. Some hopeless guy called John Keats. I don't even know what he's blathering on about."

* * *

Xander opened the door to the Summers home with difficulty. He came bearing pizza after a call from Giles, who'd had a call from Joyce, who'd said she was working until nine that night and she needed someone to feed Dawn. It was occasions like this that allowed the Xan-man to step up and save the day.

"Hey, Kiddo. You in here?" the dark haired man called, carefully navigating the open door and the hall just in the door. He cocked an ear for the inevitable response. Well, not inevitable on the Hellmouth but it wasn't Tuesday so Dawn was probably still fine.

"Yeah, we're in here Xan" Xander head towards the muted sound of the adolescent girl he was feeding then watching. Just before reaching the lounge room, he realised she'd said we. His speculation on who she was with was cut short as he saw Dawn leaning forward in her chair talking to an animated William.

"Hey guys. I got pizza. What's going on in here?" Xander asked, dropping the pizza box on the table next to an assortment of books.

"William here was explaining the poetry I have to do for English class" Dawn stated, opening the pizza box and grabbing a slice. Xander looked from Dawn to William then back again, before bursting out laughing. William turned red with embarrassment and dropped his head to his chest.

"I- I'm sorry. It's not the poetry. It's the fact that Spike, William the Bloody himself actually knows poetry." Xander managed to squeeze out, in-between giggles. William did not look appeased by this, he looked mortified.

"I- I'm still called William the Bloody after I became a vampire?" At their nods, he looked close to tears. "I must have been absolutely useless at that too, if I couldn't even get people to stop calling me William the Bloody Awful Poet."

Xander felt like he had been punched in the stomach for all the air he could draw. He took a deep, calming breath before thinking about the concept again.

"So what you're saying is, that you earned the Name William the Bloody because you are a bad poet?" At William's nod, Xander couldn't restrain himself. Half the houses on Revello street wondered, briefly because it is not safe to be curious in Sunnydale, who was laughing that loudly.

* * *

Joyce Summers, mother to Buffy and Dawn Summers, parked her car in the driveway. Closing her eyes briefly, she leaned her head back against the head rest of the drivers seat. Her life had not been easy as of late. She had found out her youngest daughter was not even her daughter, but an ancient energy called the Key made to be her daughter.

Then she had found out she had a brain tumour, which had been treated thank God. Her eldest daughter Buffy had moved back in to help her look after Dawn a bit, but between Buffy's slaying and her working at the gallery they were relying on Buffy's friends to keep an eye on Dawn in case Glory came.

Today had been one of the longer days. She'd had a headache for most of it. Not a bad, brain tumour headache, just a regular, too much to do kind of headache. It had almost been a relief. Of course, the shipment due in today was late and she lost two potential customers who were only interested in what had been in the shipment that didn't show up.

Unbuckling her seatbelt and getting out of the car, Joyce stretched some muscles. She couldn't wait to just get into her house, send Dawn to bed and just climb into a bath. She walked through the front door and heard voices from the living room. Xander. Poor Xander was almost always the one who got Dawn duty.

She walked into the lounge room only to be met with a bizarre sight. Spike, with light brown hair and in nice clothes similar to what Riley would have worn with a pair of black rimmed glasses on, chatting amiably with Xander.

"Spike! This is a surprise." Joyce managed to get out, her shock evident in her tone. What surprised her even more were Dawn and Xander's twinned expression of amusement. Spike got up and turned to her, giving her a weak smile.

"I'm terribly sorry. It's all awfully complicated, but I'm not Spike. My name is William."

* * *

Spike was not drunk. Yes, it was true he'd had two bottles of scotch and he was halfway through a third, but it took a lot more than a little drink to make a vampire of his age and experience drunk. Vampire constitution stood for something.

At most he was a little tipsy. So his decision to return to Sunnydale had nothing to do with the large amounts of alcohol he had consumed. Nothing to do with it at all. He'd just remembered he'd left his favourite lighter in his crypt was all.

So can he really be blamed that, when he arrived in town, he head towards Buffy's house? It was only quarter past ten so the Slayer was probably still out patrolling. So it's not like her was stalking her or anything. Just paying a visit to the nibblet and her mum.

So one can imagine Spike's surprise when he arrived at the Summers home only to see himself walking out the front door. It was at this point that Spike conceded that he may have had a bit too much to drink. Blinking his slightly blurry vision clear, he noticed that this ponce only looked a lot like him. His hair was the wrong colour, and he was wearing clothes only a poofter would wear. Plus he had the exact same hair style as Peaches.

"Who the bloody hell are you then?" the vampire asked, putting on his most cocky Big Bad facade. He put in a little extra swagger into his step, because a swagger never hurt anyone, and he sauntered over to the look-alike.

The doppelganger's reply was cut off completely when a whole bunch of scabby looking demons with long, greasy black hair wearing brown cloaks stepped out of the shadows. Spike blinked. He must have a lot more alcohol in his system than he thought if he missed all thirty of these creatures.

"Gentlemen! I'm so sorry to intrude, but I wondered if I could beg a moment of your time" one of the scabby little things stated. Spike noticed the other ugly demons inching closer to him.

"Friends of yours, mate?" Spike asked his copy quietly. His question was answered when one of the scabby things rushed at it and punched it in the chest, sending it flying into the house. "Guess not."

Spike gave a start as about five of the others charged. He ducked under the first one, spinning on one heel to land a backhanded blow on one of the others. A swift kick to his side took out another of the worthless things. Spike let out a gleeful laugh as he grabbed a third, snapping it's neck.

The peroxide blond vampire gave a grunt when one of them managed to land a blow. The bloody things may be hopeless fighters, but they were strong. Spike blocked then countered the next punch thrown at him, before finding his arms pinned to the ground as they swarmed all over him, doing with numbers what they could not do with skill.

"Careful with him. She will want the Key intact." the leader of the scabby things ordered above the grunting of the others. Spike's eyes widened. These annoying little meatbags worked for that Glory bint.

"Key? Who's the key? I'm not the-" his words were cut off completely as he was struck across the back of the head. The leader of the minions smirked evilly.

"The Slayer is crafty, trying to fool us with the decoy. Clearly the one with power is the Key and the other merely trying to deceive us so her glorious iridescence Glorificus would not succeed. Leave the other one. Glorificus will be most pleased by this turn of events."

The minions dragged the prone vampire across the street into the sewers through the manhole, leaving an unconscious William and the corpse of one of the minions.

* * *

**A/N:**_ So come on peoples. I am working in the actual episodes of the show, quite well I'd like to think, so show me love. Review if you want to see the next part. Reviews provide incentive and occasionally inspiration. So Review already!_


	6. Injuries all around

**A/N:**_ Keep the love coming people. I post much more frequently with reader feedback. _HungryLucy, _it's not out of the question but it is a little early. She is still fourteen._ Ultrawoman, _thanks for the review, I'll keep it up, yeah?_ Berserker Nightwitch _and_ Rebel Goddess, _that interaction is coming. William / Spike / Summers women is coming... And no-one fear about me getting Glory happy, I don't see much point to changing the show's course too dramatically at this point._  
**Disclaimer: **_To quote another author, nothing was harmed in the making of this fic except my innocence._

_**Last time, on Crushed:** Dawn asked William if he loved Buffy. William reminisced about Cecily. Poor, poor William. Xander showed up and he laughed when he found out William the Bloody did not come from gruesome crimes but William's Bloody Awful Poetry. Joyce came home and was surprised by a William sized thing in her lounge room. Spike showed up at the Summers household bumping into William before he was taken by Glory's minions. Poor, poor Spike. What happens next?_

* * *

**Injuries all around**

William woke groggily. He moved to turn over in his sleep as he always did only to be halted by a searing pain flashing white hot through his chest. Gasping in deeply, he was struck with another wave of white hot pain. He started to pant shallowly, his body attempting to get more air than he could take in ordinary breaths.

He cracked his eyes open. The first thing he saw happened to be Dawn Summers staring at his face intently from six inches away. letting out a small squeek he attempted to shift away from the fourteen year old girl before gasping as another flash of the most intense pain he had ever felt blasted in his chest.

"He's awake!" the young girl yelled at the top of her voice, with no regard forWilliam or his inability to move. William tried to relax his chest and remember how he got injured as he saw several people, Buffy, Joyce and Xander, come into the room.

It was at this point William realised he was not in the lounge room like he'd originally thought. He was in a room he hadn't seen before. A decidedly feminine room. Even though William had only seen the inside of his mother's room, there was just something feminine about the room that informed one it belonged to a young lady. William flushed. This was, sadly, the only time he had been in a young lady's room.

"You're awake. That's good, William. That is good, right Buffy?" Joyce Summers asked her eldest daughter. William liked Joyce. She was a wonderful woman, who reminded William of his own mother. The parallel was a pleasant one. Very few things seemed to remind William of home these days.

"Yeah, that's good mom." Buffy replied, exasperated. It was clear, even to William, that while Joyce meant well, she was out of her depth in this situation. "What happened to you?"

"I was outside and I ran into... Spike I think. He looked a bit like me, but he'd done something horrific to his hair and he seemed to be drunk."

"That sounds like Spike, all right." Buffy muttered under her breath.

"Then there were these... men, in brown robes. They attacked us. I- I'm afraid I don't remember much after that." William smiled apologetically, his breath still shallow.

"Spike had you attacked? I knew he was only biding his time!" Xander exclaimed, loudly. The three women looked at the young man like he had said something very stupid.

"Uh, Xander?" Dawn began in a calm, clear tone. "You do realise we found one of the demons dead of a snapped neck out there, don't you? I mean, I don't think Will here could actually snap a neck like that. No offense. They took Spike and left William." Dawn spoke as though to an idiot. William looked at Xander in sympathy. He knew that look well from his own time.

"Oh... right. They were probably just after Spike then..." Xander trailed off uncomfortably, finally coming to the same conclusion as the others. He looked at the disgusted expression on Dawn's face and the sympathetic expressions on Joyce and William's faces. Buffy had turned to look at William's bruised chest and side.

William looked at what Buffy had done and nearly had a fit upon seeing he was not wearing a shirt. His frantic movements to escape Buffy's gaze earned him another deep pain from his wounds, expressed with a groan.

"I think you've got a few cracked ribs and some bad bruising. You should heal up okay." the Slayer stated with a critical eye. "You should probably not move too much, it might make it worse." William nodded faintly when a thought occured to Joyce.

"William, what were you doing out the front of the house at that hour?" William looked embarassed.

"Well, I was going back to Rupert's-"

"We've told you it's not safe to head back to Mr. Giles' at night on your own." Joyce told him in a disapproving, motherly tone. "You could have waited for Buffy to come home. It was quite a shock for her to find you lying unconscious at the front door."

"I didn't want to put anyone out of their way. I am perfectly sure that I could have managed the trip without too much difficulty. Indeed, given a little time to gather my rescources, I won't impose upon your hospitality any further-"

"Nonsense!" Joyce declared. "You'll stay right here until you're well again, and you'll stop trying to do more than you have to!" Buffy and Dawn, the younger Summers in particular, seemed happy to have him in the house.

"Yeah, you can have my room here. Just give me Mr Gordo and I can bunk with Dawn." Buffy stated cheerfully. Dawn looked at her in disgust.

"You're not sleeping on the bed"

* * *

Spike struggled against his captors as they hauled him before Glory. He was frustrated. Not only had he allowed them to take him but now he couldn't even escape two of them. The little sods were stronger than they looked. 

"What the hell is that, and why is it's hair that colour?" Glory asked, her voice awfully petulant for a god. One of the minions took half a step forward, without releasing Spike's arm, and grinned, a disturbing image from the scabby demons.

"Stunning one, we believe he is... the Key!"

"Really? That's fantabulous!" Glory said, beaming. She stepped closer and run her fingers across Spike's chest lightly before a small frown crossed her features. "And impossible! He can't be the Key. 'Cause, you see, the Key has to be pure. This is a vampire. Lesson Number One: Vampire equals Impure." She turned away in disgust, and Spike tried to play on the opening.

"Damn right I'm impure! I'm as impure as the driven yellow snow. Let me go!" he half yelled, pulling his arms and the demons holding them.

"You can't even brain-suck a vampire. He's completely useless" the goddess whined before sitting down on the sofa.

"So, I'm just gonna let myself out..." Spike murmured, attempting to turn on his heel before the demons at either arm reasserted themselves, holding him in place.

"But your Unholiness, we observed the Slayer. She protected this one above all others. She treated him as precious." the speaking minion stated in a hesitantly confused voice. Glory looked at Spike with a malevolent grin before getting off the sofa.

"Really? Precious? Let's take a peak at you Precious." She stated, stepping up to Spikes body to look at him really closely. Spike looked down his nose at her.

"Sod off" he snarled before an offhand blow to his mouth sent him across the room.

"He doesn't look very fancy to me!" she mock complained, nearly skipping to where he had fallen.

"Hey, easy with the lip!"

"But if the Slayer protects him, maybe appearances are deceiving. Maybe there's something on the inside? What do you know Precious? What can I dig out of you?" the blonde ex-god asked sweetly before driving her index finger deep into the peroxide blond vampire's chest.

Spike screamed.

* * *

Buffy wandered through Restfield Cemetary, stake in hand. She was worried about William. He had taken a pretty hard blow in the ribs and it had only been made worse by slamming into the house wall. Buffy or even Spike would have shrugged off an injury like that, but it was really obvious that William had never been seriously wounded in any way shape or form in his life before.

Her peaceful little stroll was broken when a newly risen vamp ran at her, game face out, grave dirt still falling from his clothes. She neatly sidestepped his clumsy rush, only to pirrouette on one heel to see him trip over and turn to dust as he impaled himself on a tree branch.

Buffy stood staring incredulously at the place where tha vampire managed to kill himself. She had never seen that before. It was absolutely freaky. Buffy the Vampire Slayer, defeats unspeakable horrors nightly with a handy quip for every slay, is shocked into silence by a vampire. Granted, the vampire had to be the only one who had killed himself on a tree branch that had fallen free in a cemetary but still.

Shaking her head, Buffy continued her patrol. Walking further through the cemetary, Buffy heard a noise from one of the open crypts. Shaking her head at the stupidity of the so-called creatures of the night, she stepped into the crypt.

"You know, you'd think that you evil villians would get a new plan. I mean, the whole crypt thing is getting kinda old." Buffy was shocked to see, not a vampire, but one of Glory's scabby minions. The rat-like creature looked arouns nervously, obviously panicked at being caught in an enclosed crypt with the Slayer.

"You'll never find the vampire, Slayer! Glorificus shall extract the identity of the Key from the vampire and there is nothing you can do to stop her! She is the most beautiful, leth-" Buffy ended the demons litany with a stake to the chest and an eyeroll. She was more worried about Glory having Spike. Spike knew the Key was Dawn.

Time blurred for Buffy as she sprinted to Giles' house. Her thoughts were chasing themselves around. _Glory has Spike. Spike knows Dawn is the Key. Glory wants the Key. Spike is a vampire. Vampires are evil. Glory has Spike._

The terrifying chain of thought was put in hiatus as she arrived at Giles' house. Bursting in the door, she yelled at the top of her voice.

"GILES!" Buffy paced frantically as she waited for her ex-Watcher to come out. She was not waiting long, as he soon entered with a worried expression, his tiredness evident in both his eyes and his attire. As he shrugged his robe on, Buffy answered the question he was obviously going to ask. "Glory has Spike." The Watcher's eyes widened.

"Oh dear Lord!" Buffy nodded grimly.

"Get some weapons. We're going to kill him before he can talk, or we'll kill him because he talked. Spike just ran out of chances," the Slayer said monotonously. Giles nodded in agreement before passing the crossbow to his slayer.

* * *

Spike panted in unneeded air. He was manacled to the roof of the building and he was covered in injuries. The hole in his chest from Glory's finger and sealed somewhat in the hours he had been here, but his face was badly swollen from repeated superhuman blows. His ribs were all broken or fractured, his pale torso coloured purple and yellow from the bruising he had suffered.

He drank as Glory, his tormentor, gave him a glass of water, gently rubbing his damaged body.

"Is that better? Do you think you can try to talk now?" the ex-god asked in false sympathy. "Good. 'Cause I'm tired of these games!" she screeched, slamming the glass into the vampires head, cutting his eyebrow. "I need time, I need a drink. You're a very needy little blood-sucker and it's not very attractive! So start talking."

"Yeah, okay." the vampire wheezed. Glory brightened at his capitulation. "The Key. Here's the thing. It's that guy, on tv. What's his name?"

"On the telivision?" she asked in skepticism.   
  
"On that show? The price show? Where they guess what stuff costs?" Spike asked with a light wheeze in his voice.  
  
"The Price is Right?" one of the minions asked, his scabby face creased in confusion.   
  
"Bob Barker?" another asked excitedly, pleased to be healping his Glorificus.   
  
"We will bring you the limp and beaten body of Bob Barker!" the first minion declared, ecstatic beyond belief that he could so serve his goddess.  
  
"It is not Bob barker, you scabby morons!" Glory snarled in frustration. "The Key is new to this world and Bob Barker is as old as grit. The vampire is lying to me." Spike wheezed out a hoarse laugh.  
  
"Yeah." he acknowledged pleasantly, his face twisted into a gruesome parody of a smile. "But it was fun. And guess what, bitch? I'm not telling you jack. You're never gonna get your sodding Key. 'Cause you might be strong, but in our world, you're an idiot." the blond vampire delivered precisely.   
  
"I'm a god." Glorificus declared haughtily.   
  
"The god of what, bad home perms?" Spike asked derisively. A horrified hand went straight to he mess of blonde curls.  
  
"Shut up! I command you shut up!"  
  
"Yeah, okay, sorry but I just had no idea that gods were such prancing lightweights." the shackled vampire sneered. "Mark my words, the Slayer is going to kick your skanky... lopsided ass back to whatever place would take a cheap. Whorish. Fashion victim ex-god like. You." the vampire finished slowly. Glory's eyes narrowed and she delivered a roundhouse kick that burst Spike free of the chains around his arms and sent him through the front door, which splintered under the impact.  
  
"Good plan, Spike!" he muttered to himself scornfully.  
  
"Bring him back!" the ex-god ordered her minions. She walked into the bedroom to wait for her minions to bring the vampire back before she felt the falling sensation she felt everytime the body she shared with Ben went to his control.

* * *

**A/N:**_ Aren't I just evil leaving it like that? Of course I am. But, as promised, the next chapter shall have actual Spike/William/Dawn/Buffy interaction. Various combinations at various points, but it might be a long one to make up the conversations I want to fit in before I continue the actual story based elements. But review if you want to see more. Without reviews my muse gets ignored. I mean, why should I listen to that little pyromaniac elf if his ideas don't even get appreciated?_


	7. The difference time makes

**A/N: **_Both Jimmy, my pyromaniac elf muse, and myself appreciate all the comments, support and suggestions. It means I actually keep writing this fic. Now, only 3% of readers leave reviews, so all you people who are reading and not reviewing, just leave a little something, a message stating whether you like it, whatever. I need your love people. Gimme!  
_**Disclaimer: **_All of this is mine, except for the bits that aren't. I'll testify to that in a court of law._

_**Last time, on Crushed:** William woke up with cracked and fractured ribs. He nearly had apoplexy when he realised he was in Buffy's bedroom. Poor, virginal William. Spike was tortured by Glory. Poor Spike. Buffy stumbled onto one of Glory's minions, which accidentally blurted out that Glory had Spike. Buffy got Giles then they left to find and kill Spike. Spike mouthed off so much that Glory kicked him out of the apartment. What's going on?_

* * *

**The difference time makes**

Buffy looked from one injured man to the other. She and Giles had arrived at the ex-gods apartment to hear Spike tell Glory she'd never "get her sodding Key" and to catch him as he was consequently kicked out of the aprtment. The severity of his injuries told Buffy he had not betrayed her or Dawn to Glory like he had sold out to Adam.

Giles had dragged the vampire out to the car while Buffy fought the minions, prepared to run if Glory made an appearance. Surprisingly, the air-head ex-god did not show up at all, allowing Buffy and Giles to escape the four minions that were in the place. On the way back to Buffy's house, she had nearly cried from the release of tension that she felt from knowing that Dawn was still relatively safe. She studiously ignored any thoughts that wanted to ask why Spike had suffered so much without betraying them.

Arriving at the Summers home, Buffy and Giles had dragged the prone vampire through the front soor as quietly as they could but it wasn't wuiet enough. Joyce had come running down the stairs, taken one look at Spike, then demanded that he be taken into the living room.

Not that Buffy blamed her. Spike looked awful. His face was swelling and already severely discoloured. His shirt was in tatters, and it revealed deep sores and gashes that crossed his pale torso.

Then Buffy had stumbled into her bedroom, fully intending to go to sleep only to realise that an injured William was already in there. He reacted the instant she had opened the door, so clearly he was having trouble sleeping. His injuries were probably chafing him, if he was anything like Spike he hated to be inactive.

Buffy had quickly related the tale, leaving out the part where Dawn is the Key, and he had immediately demanded, in an incredibly polite way, that he wanted to both see the vampire version of himself and to sleep somewhere else, as he felt incredibly uncomfortable taking her room from her.

That had led to an hour of painfully slow relocation, as William refused to be carried but he had to stop every two or three steps to catch his breath. Eventually though, he has settled in the living room on a little fold out bed while Spike slept on the couch.

Buffy had gone to sleep at close to 3:00 AM that morning. She had slept through until 10: AM, when she woke up. She had gone down stairs to find Spike awake and staring intently at the just waking William. She had explained to Spike who William was, which had started the argument between the human and vampire. Spike had said something in British speak and William had become offended, then they began to argue like children. They were still at it.

"I am bloody evil, you git!"

"Yes, you're so evil you endured torture from a god so you did not betray Buffy."

"Bollocks! I just knew the Slayer would stake me if I betrayed her again."

"So you don't love Buffy?" William smirked in a very Spike-like way. Spike was silent, as William had known he would be. Dawn was a very willing ally, perfectly happy to fill William in on what actually went on around here. "Face it, Spike. You have more of me in you than you'd like."

"Why don't you face it, you bloody pillock? I'm not a pathetic wanker like you! The only person alive who is anywhere near as pathetic as you is Harris!" It was at this point that Buffy decided she had to step in. They'd been arguing like that for close to fifteen mintues and it was getting annoying.

"Okay, look you two. You will both stay here, and you will both behave. My mother is in this house and if you annoy her, Spike, I will stake you. If my little sister learns any British swear words, I will stake you." The vampire looked at her sullenly.

"What if she learns British swear words from _him_?" He asked with a weak head jerk towards his human self. Buffy couldn't help it. She really couldn't. She tried to, but she just couldn't hold back. She burst out laughing. It was almost as bad as the time when she heard Harmony had her own gang. Through her slightly blurred vision and her deep laughs, she noticed William stiffening in indignation, and quickly following that, in pain.

"I'm sorry." she managed to get out after close to five minutes of laughter. "I'm sorry. It's just the thought that William teaching my little sister to swear..." she trailed off into giggles agai. It really was funny. Buffy hadn't even heard William swear as much as Giles. Not even a single bloody hell or an oh dear Lord. He was more Giles-like than Giles, and to think he became Spike...

* * *

William and Spike watched as Buffy backed out of the room and out the door, fresh laughs bursting forth. William turned towards the television and noticed he- Spike had a savagely amused smirk on his face. He turned more fully, so he was facing the vampire, but carefully to protect his ribs. 

"What?" the young man asked in irritation and disgust. Spike had been a terrible disappointment. Apparently, if William were to remove his soul he would take to wearing nothing but black clothes and poisoning his head in order to make it white. And he would become incredibly annoying.

"Do you even realise they don't respect you at all?" Spike asked, his bruised and cut face twisted into a hideous sneer.

"That's utterly ridiculous. They have been nothing but nice to me. You should not project their feelings for you onto me." William scoffed stiffly.

"Oh, yeah. They really respect you. You are a stupid git, you know that? They don't respect you, they pity you. Christ, they only took you out for clothes because you embarrassed them. They dressed you like the bloody poof for Christ's sake! The Slayer doesn't even think you'd swear in front of lil' sis. Hell, she probably thinks you don't even know how."

William look at the vampire uncomfortably. Too much of this rang true with his past experiences. Buffy and her family and friends were very nice people and they hadn't known William for very long so they were probably holding back their true opinions. It probably wouldn't be long before everyone started to mock him like they had in his own time. He was so pathetic people stared at him, not even reacting when he spoke to them. William sighed despondantly.

"They don't respect you either" the young man answered with more vigour than he felt. This was almost as bad as the time he had attempted to speak to Cecily and all the other people at the party had laughed so much at his outdated clothing that he had run off in embarassment before she could see him.

"Oh-ho, looks like our little punching bag has some fight in him after all. Maybe you aren't a complete nance after all. And they do respect me. They may not like me, they may not even fear me much, but they all respect me. They know that, if I got this bloody chip out, I am a vampire to be feared. You are just as pathetic as the Watcher, but at least he's useful because he knows things. What are you going to do for them? Help them if a demon requires bad poetry to kill it?"

William stonily turned on the television and started flicking through channels. The vampire may have had a point,. but William would be damned if he were to show weakness in front of him. So intent was he on watching the images on the screen, he completely missed the vampires gleeful grin at his human self's discomfort.

* * *

Dawn sat cross legged on the floor, staring avidly at the two people on the couch. It was amazing. Not only that, it was pretty great too. Spike and William. William and Spike. Dawn almost shivered at her good fortune. 

William was adorable, his hair curling slightly despite the new shortness and gel, his face all soft curves and those glasses made him look dignified and smart and probably a lot of other stuff. His whole personality was so nice it drew you in, even if he did treat Dawn like a tiny little child a lot of the time.

Spike, however, was a very different story. Just as handsome as the other, but where William had brown curls, Spike's hair was bleach blond and slicked back. His cheekbones, even while slightly discoloured and swelling a little, were obviously high and very attractive. His face seemed to be all harsh angles but it also seemed soft as well. Plus, the clothes? Very nice.

What was even better was, that both of them looked identical. Well, almost identical. You could never mistake one for the other because their body language was so very different, William showing his timid kindness and restraint where Spike oozed confidence and sexuality. But there was something not quite right. Aside from the obvious damage of course.

"Spike! You have a scar!" Dawn exclaimed in shock. He gave her a little grin.

"Yeah. I do. You've known that for a while now, Nibblet."

"Yeah, but he doesn't" she rejoined with a pointed look at William. "Did you get that in the week before you were turned?" Spike shook his head.

"I got this in 1900, during the Boxer Rebellion. It was when Ibagged my first Slayer. She and I were fighting in a temple. She throws a punch at my head and I-"

"Do we really need to listen to this?" William asked in a pained voice. "I've heard this story four times already and I've only known you for a day. Besides, I hardy think it is suitable for a young lady like Dawn." Dawn flushed, her emotions wavering between frustration at being seen as a child and pleasure at being called a lady.

"Bollocks. The little bit isn't a bloody child. She's seen worse than me in her time. Besides, I've only told you the story four times because you turn such an interesting shade of green. I'd forgotten what a ponce I used to be." Spike finished with a mirthful grin.

"And I should absolutely adore the fact that you killed an innocent girl and drank her blood, should I?" William asked him acidly. Dawn's eyes widened as Spike's face darkened with anger and decided to cut this off before they started bickering again.

"So Spike, how did you get that scar again? I mean, I know a Slayer and all that, but why didn't it heal up like all the wounds Buffy has given you in the past?"

"Because the Slayer doesn't use a blessed sword that has been doused in holy water. Stung like buggary, let me tell you that. It might heal up eventually though. Wounds made from something holy always take the longest to heal." the bleached vampire replied in an offhand tone, so very apathetic it was obvious to Dawn he was incredibly proud of his scar.

Dawn continued to watch the men on her couch, now oblivious to her prescence, as they argued over what they should watch on the television. Spike seemed to be arguing for the Exorcist or something, probably just to mess with poor William some more, and William seemed to want to watch something about World War I.

"Give me the sodding remote!"

"A most emphatic no. I'm not going watch some show with a possessed little girl when I could be finding out about the hundred years I've missed."

"I lived through it, trust me. You didn't miss much. World Wars I and II, lot's of blood, death, violence and suffering. It was actually quitew a bit of fun. Woodstock was great, but I missed a lot of that. Eating flower people tends to warp your sense of time. Basically, it was a gay old time until Prague." This final comment caught William's attention. It appeared to be the one thing the vampire hadn't wanted to talk about at great length. He determined to press the vampire and make him uncomfortable for a change.

"Prague? What happened in Prague?"

"Dru got hurt. I came here, made her better. End of story."

"And who is 'Dru'?"

"Dru is Drusilla. She and Spike were, like, totally in love for 200v years or something." Dawn added excitedly, finally able to contribute to the conversation. Both man and vampire stared at her, startled by her sudden participation. Spike recovered first.

"200 years? I'm not that bloody old. I'll have you know I'm only 123 years dead, thank you very much" Dawn giggled at his indignation. It was exactly the same with Giles. They both seemed to be really worried about being old. William looked at the vampire.

"You fell in love with a common vampire instead of our Cecily?" he asked in curiosity, unable to recompense his feelings for Cecily with the vampire's lack of love for his love. Becoming a vampire shouldn't change him so much he ceased to love his gleaming goddess.

"Our Cecily? You are a right pillock. _Our Cecily_ said we were beneath her." Spike's voice turned to a fake, high pitched imitation of a girl. "'But I do see you William. That's the problem. You're beneath me'. Stupid bitch never saw my potential. But Drusilla, my dark beauty, she saw. She brought it out of me. The passion. The fire. First time I was truly alive was after I'd died. I made that bitch scream. She took the longest to die"

Both Wiliam and Dawn stared at the vampire, surprised at the savage bitterness in his voice.

* * *

Spike, Dawn and William all sat on the couch watching some teen movie that Dawn insisted they all had to watch. Spike snorted softly as he noticed both Dawn and William staring at the screen avidly. The ponce agreed to anything the girl suggested. He was more whipped than Spike, but he'd never even had a snog. At least Spike was not as pathetic as that.

Spike rolled his eyes at the two figures to his right. They were both childish, but only one had the excuse of being a child. Spike had almost decided that he hated William when the front door burst open. The Slayer, the witch and her blonde lover all came through the front door at once.

The blonde witch seemed to be holding her hand and murmuring quietly, while the redhead floated around her worriedly while the Slayer just looked angry. Spike decided it had nothing to do with him until he smelled the dried blood that heralded internal bleeding.

Worried about the Slayer, the vampire stood, wincing when he felt the pull of his wounds and took a few faltering steps towards the kitchen.

"Slayer? What's going on?" Buffy looked at him from the kitchen, her eyes haunted.

"Glory got Tara. She brainsucked her."

* * *

**A/N:**_ Sorry about the delay with this chapter people. I had some life stuff come up. Forgive any spelling or grammar errors in this chapter, it was really hard to write and in the interest of my public, which is not too many people but still some, I decided to post now rather than later. Keep the reviews coming, thanks to all who have reviewed._


	8. On the run

**A/N:**_ Apologies to all my readers. This chapter was really hard to right. Not because of writer's block. I know where I want to go with this story, and how to get there. It's just, this chapter and the next chapter are going to be hard to right for me. I hate copying the show this much, but it must be done. I'll try and cut down, but we all need to watch how William interacts in these key sequences. For shame, anyone who reads this without reviewing... Oh yeah, a lot of this chapter is copied. It also might be a bit disjointed for anybody who hasn't seen the episode 5.20:Spiral_  
**Disclaimer:** _You know what? No disclaimer. You just try and sue me Joss! JUST TRY IT!_

_**Last time, on Crushed:** Even though injured, William and Spike fought. Spike made fun of William's insecurities. Dawn spoke to 'the boys'. Spike and William fought over what they should watch on TV. Spike's dirty little secret was paraded around; that he was still bitter over Cecily's rejection. The three heard about Tara getting brainsucked._

**

* * *

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**On the run**

"A-and then whoosh! All of a sudden Glory's standing right there in front of us, all skanky and blonde and thinkin' she's all that just 'cause some bumpy heads kiss her stinky feet ... She does have nice feet." Dawn shook her head, forgetting the quiet tangent, and continued to fill in the group what had happened earlier in the day. "A-and she's comin' right at us, and- Buffy's just standing there not even blinking, like 'Bring it on,' and then, wham!" One small fist slammed into the other, making a slapping sound. "Hell-bitch in orbit".

"Go, Buff!" Xander inserted in enthusiasm. His pleasure was mirrored on the faces of almost everyone in the room. Only Dawn, Buffy and Tara didn't show the same relief as all the others.

"I knew you'd best Glory eventually" Giles rambled, pleased that his Slayer had finally bested the God. William was not so sure. He looked at Buffy and at Dawn, and they did not look happy. "I mean all-all our years of training-"

"A truck hit her." Buffy stated, emotionless. She continued to stare out of the window. William felt a sudden surge of sympathy for Buffy. She felt useless. He knew exactly what that was like, only she didn't deserve it. She was better than William, better than a lot of people. She was a hero. Even if she was only a girl.

"Oh." Giles' disappointment at having that hope cruelly torn away was blatantly obvious to everyone. Well, almost everyone.

"You threw it at her?" Anya asked guilelessly, completely missing out on the sudden lack of cheer in the room.

"Well, no. She more kind of waited for it to hit Glory." Dawn had a very disappointed look on her face that she had nothing better to say about the sister who saved her life. Her eyes met with William's and he gave her small smile. "Uh, but then Buffy ran really fast and we got away." the teenager declared with pleased triumph, having found something good to say about her sister.

"I don't know how we got away. That truck couldn't have slowed her down for more than a second." Buffy stated in a quietly confused voice. She had an air of defeat around her that William had never seen, never expected to see around the Slayer. She just seemed so strong.

"Well, how isn't important, all that matters is that the two of you are safe." Giles assured her Watcher.

William had noted he did that a lot. Giles was sort of a father figure for the younger people, or so William imagined. Giles was the sort of man William always hoped he would become. Dignified, wise. Giles was the man William would have wanted as a father.

"Safe? We've barely been able to manage not getting seriously dead every time we've crossed paths with Glory. Now that she knows that Dawn is the key?" Buffy raged. Both Giles and Dawn looked to the ground, shamed. Everyone else in the room sank back into their seats.

"There must be something in the _Book of Tarnis_ that we've missed, something we can use against Glory..." the Watcher attempted to ease his Slayer's load, and failed. Buggy turned to look out the window again.

"Piano!" Anya exclaimed loudly. Everyone in the room, excluding Tara, turned and stared at the odd girl. William had to half spin in his seat to do so, and regretted his haste immediately, as his ribs pulled sharply. He shrugged it off with a grimace.

"Because that's what we used to kill that big demon that one time!" Xander exclaimed, caught up in his girlfriends excitement. He paused when everyone in the room looked at him in confusion. "No wait, that-that was a rocket launcher. Ahn, what are you talking about?"

"We should drop a piano on her." When everyone continued to stare at her incredulously, she continued, "Well, it always works for that creepy cartoon rabbit when he's running from that nice man with the speech impediment."

"Yes, or perhaps we could paint a convincing tunnel on the side of a mountain." Giles replied in a dry tone. "Let's just keep thinking, everyone." He looked to Buffy. "Perhaps we should reassemble at the magic shop, see if there's anything-"

"We can't fight her." Buffy kept looking out the window as she made this quiet, certain declaration.

"W-well not yet, no, but-"

"No, not ever. She's too strong, Giles. We're not gonna win this with, with stakes, or spells, or pulling out some uranium power core. She's a god and she's coming for us. So let's just not be here when she starts knocking." Everyone looked at Buffy in shock.

"Run Away?" Everyone's head turned to Anya. It reminded William of a tennis match he had seen on the telly the other day, the crowd changing which way they're facing at every interval. "Finally, a sensible plan."

"That's not what she meant." Xander exclaimed. "Is it?"

"Well, we can't stay here! She'll just kill us off one by one until there's no one left standing between her and Dawn."

"Buffy, we all understand the severity of the situation, but there must be another way." Giles attempted to calm Buffy, to let her know he would be supporting her to the end.

"No. We stay, we die. Show of hands for that option." Buffy looked around the room, noting the subdued expressions on everyone's face. "All right. Nobody goes home, nobody tells anybody we're leaving. Just pack up whatever supplies we need and that's it, we're gone." 

"Cool. Don't have to study for that Geometry test." Dawn said in a weak attempt to be positive. It was obvious to anyone who was paying attention, which a quick glance assured William he was the only one who was doing so, but Dawn blamed herself for this. For uprooting everyone's life.

"What about wheels? I don't think everybody's gonna fit in the Xandermobile." Xander asked in a similar tone, hating how defeated his friend was. Hating having no way to help.

"Just get your stuff together. I'll handle the rest." Buffy said, her confident voice belied by the uneasy gaze out of the window.

* * *

Spike sat on the edge of the uncomfortable seat in the Winnebago. He'd been surprised when Buffy had told him that she wanted to run, but He had immediately offered his services. 

Sadly, she had turned him down. She wanted to take all the bloody Scoobies. He still thought it would have been smarter to just grab the Porsche he had planned on stealing. There would have been enough room for him, Buffy and the little Bit.

"I shoulda nicked that Porsche I had my eye on. Just enough room for you me and big sis." he informed Dawn, who sat across from him. He half tilted his head, to see Xander and his human half staring at him with disgust, despite their motion sickness. "What?"

"Would you give it a rest or..." Xander trailed off with an uncomfortable half burp sound, which was mimicked by William. They both looked sallow and ill. Spike smirked at the pair on his right.

"Or what? You gonna toss your cookies on my shoes?"

"Or you can be Undead Man Walking. See how fast you can hitch a ride with a flaming thumb." Xander stated in an oddly determined but very sick tone. William gave an uncertain nod of agreement, then turned slightly green as it emphasised the lurching of the unstable Winnebago.

"Fine..." Spike muttered. He looked at the other people in his compartment. The Bit sat across from him, next to Red and her witch, who was playing with the blinds on the window. Next along was the demon girl, who was fussing over the whelp, who looked just as sick as his human half. "Pansies..." he muttered, looking at the poorly young men.

Xander glared at Spike, an expression Spike felt was ruined by the low pitch pained whine that was emanating from the boy. He stumbled towards the driver's seat.

"That guy is blood-sucking the last nerve right out of me." He complained to Giles, as the elder man tried to get the Winnebago moving as fast and as far as he could.

"Well, Buffy has a point." Giles admitted grudgingly. "In a confrontation, Spike may prove... Useful." The Watcher's mouth twisted with distaste at the final word. Spike had been nothing but trouble from day one, but he did occasionally prove useful.

"I don't know if Buffy's thinking too clear on that one. Or anything else right now. I've never seen her so..." the young man trailed off, at a loss, as he looked towards the bedroom part of the mobile home, where Buffy had secluded herself.

"She's been through more than her fair share of late. She just needs a chance to catch her breath. She'll be alright."

"Yeah, she'll... Yeah." Xander trailed off, uncomfortable.

Spike's lip curled in disgust at the two men now behind him. They had no faith in the Slayer. He'd been a much badder Big Bad than this Glory bint, and the Slayer had beaten him time and again. All she needed was a little time to regroup, then-

"Aargh!" Spike screamed, and hurled himself away from his seat, gripping his hand. Tara burst into tears while Willow tried to soothe her. Spike had not expected the brain sucked girl to force a gap in between the blinds, letting the sunlight in.

"I'm sorry, she didn't mean to, she doesn't know what she's..." Willow babbled, her worry switching back and forth between the burnt vampire and her still whimpering girlfriend.

"We know." Dawn assured her quietly. Spike forced a grin on his face.

"No biggie." He bent slightly and looked at Tara. "Look, the skin's already stopped smoking. You go ahead and play peek-a-boo with Mr. Sunshine all you like. Keeps the ride from getting boring."

Spike sank to the floor, away from the window, as Tara went back to playing with the blind and Xander returned to his seat. Spike looked up from his reddened hand to see both Dawn and William giving him the same look, the one that said "I-knew-you-weren't-as-bad-as-you-say-you-are", even if William's was much less focused due to his motion sickness.

Spike growled low in his throat. He was too bad. Just didn't want to sit here listening to the crazy witch scream and cry because the couldn't open the bloody blinds. Spike was a master vampire, albeit a chipped one, and he would do as he bloody well pleased, and if he took the only action he could to stop the chit from wailing in his ears, that was perfectly evil. Entirely selfish motive. No sympathy for one of the two Scoobies who didn't hate him on principal, and Dawn hardly counted as a Scooby as she was just the Slayer's sister.

Spike's internal ranting [he was _not_ brooding] was cut short as both Buffy and Dawn came hurrying out of the back room they'd been in. Spike blinked. He hadn't even seen Dawn leave. He'd have to be careful about that in future. He got a second shock.

"Horsies!" Tara squealed softly, looking out the window. Willow took a quick glance, then pulled her lover away from the window as an arrow burst through the artificial wall that made the sides of the Winnebago.

"Weapons?" Giles asked suddenly, his training as a Watcher setting him up to try and organise the civilians to help his Slayer. Spike gave him a look of the utmost disgust.

"Hello? You're driving one!" He exclaimed sharply.

"Don't hit the horsies!" Willow wailed, her gentle nature shining through yet again. It still annoyed Spike as much today as it did when she had been on and on about saving the bloody Indian last year at Thanksgiving.

"We won't!" Buffy assured her loudly. Spike nearly groaned. Then he felt very thankful for his enhanced vampire hearing. "Aim for the horsies." Buffy murmured grimly to her Watcher, low enough that the others would be unable to hear.

Arrows began piercing the walls at an alarming rate. Buffy urged all the humans away from the walls, getting them to crouch in the centre of the Winnebago.

"Watch out for-" Buffy was cut off in surprise, staring at the sword that had punched through the roof in shock. She barely moved quickly enough to avoid it as it was pulled free then plunged directly into the place where her head had been.

After the third plunge of the sword, Spike jumped up and grasped the blade with both hands. Everyone, Spike included, stared at his hands, rivulets of blood beginning to appear as the knight on the roof tried to draw his sword from the vehicle to strike again. Spike tightened his grip, ignoring the searing pain.

"Now might be a good time for something heroic." he managed to choke out. Buffy snapped out of her trance, then climbed onto the roof. He heard a loud thud, then the sword was wrenched from his grip. Spike roared, the pain and the scent of blood bringing forward his demonic visage.

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**A/N:** _Sorry about the delay. I've been torn between rewriting the final three episodes entirely with the William twist and compressing down to just key moments. I went with Key moments. No, I will not apologise for the pun. Anyway, the next chapter or two might be a bit disjointed, but as soon as I end the storyline it will be nothing but all original works with a few Season 6 landmarks stopping by for a visit.  
P.S.: Sorry about this, had to fix up the chapter a bit. I found y grammar was awful. Should be legible now though._

_**Remember, Read, Review. I would have left this here if not for the steady inflow of support from my readers. Don't be a mooch, review. It's free and it doesn't take long.**_


	9. History doesn't always repeat

**A/N: **_This is in direct response to the fairly overwhelming response I got to the last chapter. Six reviews within 24 hours is fairly impressive. See what happens when you review? I post faster. Ooh, yeah. This chapter will be fairly disjointed as well.  
_**Disclaimer: **_So I says to him, I says, "Joss, I'm stealing your characters and I'm going to make them do my evil bidding."_

_**Last time, on Crushed: **William observed the Scooby interaction. Dawn lauded Buffy's running away abilities. Buffy decided to put them to use once more. Spike stole a Winnebago. Tara accidentally opened the blinds and burnt Spike's hand. Spike grasped a sword blade with his bare hands. Poor Spike._

* * *

**History doesn't always repeat**

Spike tried to get his lighter to work, a job made infinitely more difficult by the stiff bandages that had been wrapped around his lacerated hands. He flicked at the lighter in an ineffectual rage. Xander crossed the room and grabbed the small lighter from the vampire's hands, flicking his fingers across the wheel.

"You know, these things'll kill you" the young man mentioned in an offhand tone. Spike raised an eyebrow, taking a drag on his cigarette. "Oh, right... Did I mention today how much I don't like you?"

"You mighta let it slip... once or twice" the blond vampire replied with a soft smirk. This was more comfortable than the forced friendship. The barbs were expected, natural.

"How are your feelers?" Xander asked, wiggling his fingers in front of Spike as though the vampire would not understand otherwise.

"Nothing compared to the little bits we're gonna get chopped into when the Renaissance Fair kicks the door in." The vampire paused, peering into the other room. He could just see Giles, lying on the stretcher, being treated by the nurse, with the little Bit and William hovering over his shoulder. "And here we bloody sit."

"Not like we've got much of a choice" was the reply, Xander shrugging in resignation of their untenable position.

"Make a break for it! Use General Armor-all as shield, get to the doc's car and-"

"Great plan. And while all the hacking and slashing is going on, what are you gonna be doing, huh? Throwing migraines at them?"

"Look, we stay here, we all die! At least some of us might get-"

"No!" Buffy declared emphatically, having just entered the room. "We're all gonna make it. I'm not losing _anyone_." With a shake of her head, Buffy returned to the main room where Willow, Tara, Giles, her sister, William and Ben all waited. With a snort, Spike sauntered to the doorway and leaned against it.

* * *

William was aware of the tension in the room, even if he didn't understand why it was there. It had increased tenfold while Buffy and the others had been talking to the man they had taken hostage after the battle, but William had stayed to watch over Giles.

It had been a horrible shock when the spear had flown through the front window of the Winnebago (which, William was sure, was a torture device of some kind...) and impaled the older Englishman. It had been a shock because none of the Scoobies had acted as though they would lose, not even in their despair.

He had felt a great deal of relief when the physician had been called. It was something familiar and reassuring, and it had given the hope that Giles would be all right after all. William had purposefully stayed with the older man since they had arrived, doing his best to help him or ease his pain.

Then Buffy and the others had come back into the room, much more tense than before. The tension, the medieval army camped outside of the abandoned building, it was all very surreal.

With a small sigh, and a slight twinge of discomfort from his almost healed ribs, William looked around the room. Giles was laid out on the table next to him, Buffy was talking to Willow and Tara in one corner. Xander was sitting with his arms around Anya near the door. Spike had gone to keep an eye on Dawn while she was in the toilet, and the physician was sitting on the other side of Giles.

"You have to let me out! You don't understand, I gotta get out! Open a door! Now!" Ben, the physician, started to shout, running towards the door. William blinked rapidly then readjusted his glasses.

"What happened?" Buffy asked, her tone worried. Spike appeared in the doorway, drawn by the yelling.

"I- I don't know. He just started yelling-" William tried to explain.

"Let me out!" Ben cried again. Buffy looked at the screaming man, then at her friend Willow.

"Okay, Will, open a door-" Buffy ceased talking, staring in horror at Glory. William felt his mouth drop open. How had the hellgod got past the barrier spell without Willow knowing?

"Well, whadda you know? Little Ben finally did something right." the blonde god drawled.

Spike sprinted across the intervening space with a roar as Xander attacked from another direction. Glory negligently backhanded Spike into the young carpenter, knocking them both into the wall near Anya.

Buffy darted forward as Willow began to chant. With a light chuckle, Glory hurled the Slayer into the witch, and they crumpled down to the ground next to the terrified Tara. William froze as the god looked at him. Glory blinked slowly, then looked at the still incapacitated Spike and back to William.

"Hey, would you look at that? My minions must have been right."

And with that, she stalked across the floor and hauled the stunned Brit out of the building.

* * *

Spike stretched, feeling the slightest tightness in his skin from his horrific injuries but no pain. Buffy was in the back room, checking on Dawn. Spike thought they'd been incredibly lucky. Ben had turned into Glory, and none of them were dead. The stupid bint didn't have the Bit or the Slayer, only the stupid ponce.

Of course, these sodding white hats couldn't just take this as their good luck and let Glory have him. Surely it wouldn't be long before the stupid wannabe god figured out she'd grabbed the wrong one and come after the Bit. They should be running, not making plans to go find the nance. A thought occurred to him.

"Uh, Will? Now, uh, don't turn me into a horned toad for asking, but - what if we come across Ben?"  
  
"I don't think a doctor's what anybody needs right now." she replied with a frown. Spike rolled his eyes.  
  
"Well, yeah. Specially not one who also happens to be Glory."  
  
"What do you mean?" Giles asked, having healed enough to be able to sit up and move for short periods of time.  
  
"You know... Ben is Glory." Spike iterated slowly.  
  
"You mean Ben's with Glory?" Willow asked, confused.  
  
"'With' in what sense?" Xander asked with a suspicious frown.  
  
"They're working together?" Anya asked in panic.  
  
"No, no. Ben is Glory. Glory's Ben. They're one and the same."  
  
"When did all this happen?" Anya queried, completely lost.  
  
"Not one hour ago!" Spike yelled, exasperated. "Right here, before your very eyes! Ben came, turned into Glory, snatched the poofter, and - phht! - vanished. Remember? You _do_ remember? Is everyone here very stoned? Ben. Glory. He's a doctor. She's the Beast. Two entirely separate entities, sharing one body. It's like a bloody sitcom! Surely, you remember!"  
  
"So you're saying... Ben, and Glory ... "  
  
"Have a... connection." Anya finished her boyfriend's sentence hesitantly.  
  
"Yes, obviously. But what kind?" Giles stated. Spike stared around the room wildly for a minute.  
  
"Oh! I get it. Very crafty. Glory's worked the kind of mojo where anyone who sees her little presto- chango instantly forgets. And yours truly, being somewhat other than human, stands immune."  
  
"So, Ben and Glory are... the same person?" Willow asked tentatively.  
  
"Glory can turn into Ben, and Ben turns back into Glory." Xander stated, an epiphany dawning.  
  
"And anyone who sees it instantly forgets." Anya, finally catching on.  
  
"And a kewpie doll for the lady." Spike exclaimed.  
  
"Excellent. Now. Do we suspect that there may be some kind of connection between Ben and Glory?" Giles, the voice of reason, put the question to the group, and they pondered it while Spike groaned loudly and banged his head against the post behind him.

* * *

William was very worried. Not only had he discovered that Glory and Ben were the same person, which wasn't actually as hard to believe as it once would have been, especially when you realise that William himself had travelled through time, after a fashion.

What he found so disturbing was that both Ben and Glory were arguing with the other. Over him.

"But he's not the Key" a deep, masculine voice.

"He has to be, sweety. My scabby babies said that he was new in the Slayer's life and he absolutely reeks of magic."

"But what about the crazy people? They said it was the girl."

"Who are we going to trust? My minions, my nose and me or a bunch of lunatics who've had their brain sucked out?"

"I don't know..."

"Look, the Slayer's sister has been around for fourteen years. This is my Key. He showed up a couple of weeks ago. He's knew, he smells of magic. It fits."

Glory/Ben looked directly at William. He still hadn't spoken. He'd been captured for three hours now, and for the last forty five minutes Glory/Ben had been shifting rapidly as the barrier between them weakened.

"You're my Key, aren't you precious?" Glory asked, running a manicured fingernail around the young man's face.

"I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about." William said stiffly, his accent stronger than it usually was in his attempt to retain dignity. A look of distaste flashed across Glory's face, before it shifted to Ben's, who snatched their hand back.

"I knew it was Dawn. I won't let you get her Glory." William stared at the man-god before all the pieces fell into place. He couldn't help it. The tension of the past few days, especially the hours of his captivity, and now this ludicrous thought. He couldn't help it. He giggled.

"What are you laughing at, precious?" Glory asked, her voice annoyingly pitched.

"You- you think that.. Dawn.. is the Key?" he managed to ask in between giggles.

"Argh! You and the Slayer are just doing this to annoy me, I know it! Now, either you're the Key or the Slayer's sister is the Key. Which one is it?" The hellgod stood, hands on hips, with an almost comically stern expression.

William was about to tell her the truth, that neither of them were the Key and that he had no idea who or what the Key was, when he recalled what had happened as they had left the abandoned building. An entire army had been devastated by Glory alone, and she had barely tried. It was obvious that she wouldn't believe him if he said Dawn wasn't the Key, and while he would be willing to sacrifice himself, he was not willing to let the young girl die as well.

"I... I am your Key." He stated, subdued. He would still die, but at least this way he would die alone and let Buffy and the others to run. He wasn't deluded enough to believe that they would come for him, but this would buy them time to escape. It was the least he could do for the best friends he had ever had, even if they'd only been nice out of pity.

* * *

Spike sauntered back to Xander, after having checked Glory's house for the ponce. Only because the Slayer asked him too. He was not, in any way shape or form, attached to his human self.

"Found Ben's room at Glory's. Didn't learn much."  
  
"Wait - Ben? At Glory's? You're saying that all this time he was sub-letting from her?" Xander asked in confusion.  
  
"This - is gonna be worth it." Spike said, before smacking Xander on the back of the head. Hard. Both men let out the same cry.

"OW!"

"Last time, from the top..." Spike said, tiredly.

* * *

Buffy looked at her friends, gathered around the table at the magic box. There was only a few hours before the ritual that would kill William, and they were drawing up blanks as to how to get him back.

"We don't have to kill her. Uh, we just have to stop her from doing the ritual. I mean, there's only the one time that she can do it, right?" Willow asked hopefully.

"Yeah. We get her on the ropes, we just gotta keep her occupied till it's too late." Spike agreed, latching on to the idea. "Okay. But I'm still not hearing enough ideas. She's a god. Let's think outside the box." Anya stated cheerfully, obviously still pleased that she integrated so perfectly into regular human society. Buffy smiled faintly at the memories the thought brought up. "Why don't _you_ go think outside the bleeding box?" Spike asked, his tone acid. "Yes, Anya, apart from your incredibly uninfectious enthusiasm, have you anything else to contribu-" Giles began dryly. "The Dagon sphere!" Anya cut in hurriedly, inspiration striking. "Sorry?" Giles looked completely lost. "When Buffy first met Glory, she found that magical glowy sphere that was meant to repel Glory." Anya explained patiently. "We've got it in the basement." At everyone's surprised look she continued. "It might drive her away or hurt her. Ooh!" 

"And Olaf the troll god's enchanted hammer." She said with a gesture towards the hammer in question. "You wanna fight a god, use the weapon of a god."

Buffy crossed the room to the hammer.

"Uh... nah, that thing's too heavy to-" Spike began, slightly embarrassed. His eyes widened slightly as Buffy hefted the hammer thoughtfully with her left hand. "Yeah. Good."

"I like this. Thanks." Buffy said, pleased to finally begin to have a fighting chance against the hellgod. "Here to help. Wanna live." Anya said in a humble tone. 

"Smart chicks are soooo hot." Her secret fiancée said with a fond look.

"You couldn't have figured that out in tenth grade?" Willow asked in mock despair, referring to her high school crush. The friends just smiled.

* * *

Spike climbed the tower as fast as he could. He didn't like leaving the fray behind, but all of Glory's demon minions were dead and he couldn't do anything to the human ones that were left, so he was put on William rescue.

Buffy fought Glory below. Spike wanted to help, but he was realistic enough to admit he would just be a liability. He wasn't as fast or as strong as the Slayer, and he couldn't hurt the god. None of the others could protect William though.

He'd been sent on this mission by Willow, who'd noticed that there was already someone on the tower. Spike was already regretting his promise to the Slayer to rescue his human half. It just wasn't worth it, but he'd get himself a soul before he willingly hurt his Slayer.

He arrived at the top level of the platform to see two things that shocked him. One was the demon, Doc, who he had killed. Or who he'd thought he killed. The other was his human half in a ceremonial dress. That caused Spike to shudder. That would be coming off before anybody saw it. He had already been mistaken for Spike at least twice by the demon world, and this would ruin the remnants of his reputation.

"Well. What do you know? It's just about that time." Doc said to William in his too friendly voice. Spike hated the demon with a passion.

"Spike?!" William asked in shock. Doc whirled around as Spike strode forward.

"Doesn't a fella stay dead when you kill him?" Spike asked in a rhetorical voice.

"Look who's talking." the demon replied with a wry grin.

"Come on, Doc. Let's you and me have a go." Spike smirked, playing up the role of the Big Bad to it's best.

"I... do have a prior appointment."

"This won't take long." the vampire assured him. "No, I-I don't imagine it will." Doc agreed. 

Spike lunged forward as fast as he could, using his vampire speed to maximum effect, only to be caught around the neck by the deceptive Doc. The ceremonial knife was driven into Spike's back, causing a gasp from the vampire and a wince from his human counter part. The knife fell to the platform and Spike threw the small demon away, standing in between the demon and the Englishman.

"You don't come near the wanker, Doc." Spike said grimly, determined to keep his promise to Buffy.

"I don't smell a soul anywhere on you. Why do you even care?" Doc asked, his curiosity piqued.

"I made a promise to a lady." the bleach blond vampire said simply.

"Oh?" Doc's long tongue darts from his mouth, distracting Spike, who ducked, before sweeping his legs out from under him with his tail. Dragging the vampire to his feet, his arms pinned behind his back, Doc shifted him to the edge of the platform. "Then I'll send the lady your regrets."

Spike sent an agonised look towards the Slayer, a small figure on the ground, battling the god. William's face fell, his only chance at salvation rapidly disappearing.

"No." Spike growled, deep in his chest, before Doc shoved him from the platform. Spike fell, landing with a sickening crunch on a pile of bricks. Doc smiled gently, then picked up the knife and turned to William again.

* * *

William gasped as Doc drew the knife across his stomach again. He was muttering softly as he worked.

"Shallow cuts... shallow cuts..."

William blinked. He thought he saw...

"Buffy?" Doc spun on his heel and, on seeing the Slayer, adopted a fighting stance.

"This should be interesting" He said. Buffy didn't even look at him, her eyes trained on William. As she passed, she gave the demon a shove, sending him screaming off the other side of the platform.

"Let's get you out of here." She said to William, who sagged in relief.

* * *

**A/N: **_Whew! That was work and a half. It was so hard not to include the entire episode, The Gift. It was my favourite one. I hope none of you thought I'd still be killing Buffy off. I mean, that would make this story angst and this is my lighthearted piece. I think I pulled it off okay, it was a little disjointed though. From here on out though, it's all original stuff. What did you all think? Lemme know._

_**Remember, Read, Review. I would have left this here if not for the steady inflow of support from my readers. Don't be a mooch, review. It's free and it doesn't take long.**_


	10. Injuries, confusion and dilemmas

**A/N: **_Another good response to my work. Wow, if you people keep this up I might actually believe you like the fic... A few questions arose over the last few chapters. Here are the answers. Romance is on the way. How can we have a fic with this situation and not have romance? Second, Tara did blab, Glory convinced Ben that William was the Key. Anything else should be covered in fic._

**Disclaimer: **_You haven't figured it out by now? It's, what? Ten chapters in? I don't do normal..._

_**Last time, on Crushed: **William got kidnapped. Glory argued with Ben. The Scoobies assembled. Buffy fought Glory. Spike got thrown off the platform on the tower. Poor Spike. William got cut. Poor William. Buffy killed Doc. Yay Buffy. Buffy didn't die. Yay me._

* * *

**Injuries, confusion and dilemmas**

Joyce Summers scraped the scrambled eggs out of the pan, onto a plate. She looked at the assortment of food on the bed tray. Eggs, bacon, hash browns, sausages, toast, some coffee, some tea, some orange juice and a muffin.

She may be overcompensating, but the young Englishman had saved her daughter. Buffy had told her how William had pretended to be the Key to save Dawn. It had earned him a new fan.

Dawn had not left his side since they had brought him back to the Summers home. He had been insisting non-stop that he did not need to stay here. At least until both Buffy and Dawn had pointed out that he had no where else to go. Joyce had just gone and gotten him some warm tea, to help him calm down.

Picking up the tray, Joyce head into Dawn's room, where William had been put by the younger Summers women. She backed through the door, pushing it wide open, and deposited the tray gently on the beside table.

He sat in the bed, where Buffy had deposited him before she left half an hour ago. Dawn, having gotten the story of what happened, had grabbed a stool from the kitchen and had parked herself beside the bed and was busy trying to entertain the injured young man.

"Mrs. Summers, this is too much. Really. You don't need to do any of this." He assured her earnestly. He really was too sweet. Joyce smiled at the boy gently, then pushed the food closer to him.

* * *

Alexander Lavelle Harris has a moral dilemma. This is uncommon for him. His world had remained relatively simple throughout his life. The lines were almost always clear as to who was treated how. Him, Willow, Jesse, and later, Buffy. His whole life revolved around his friends.

Only, those lines had been getting blurry as he got older. First had come the knowledge that vampires existed, but that wasn't too bad. 'Vampires = Evil' was simple enough math for Xander Harris. Then he had other maths formulas come up that caused trouble to his beliefs. 'Cordelia = Evil Hellbitch' turned into 'Cordelia = Girlfriend' which then turned into 'Cordelia = Wrathful Ex-Girlfriend'.

'Willow = Best Friend' turned into 'Willow = Illicit Smoochies Partner', then back again. Then there was the whole Angel dilemma. Good vampire and all. That still wasn't too bad. 'Vampires = Evil' became 'Vampires = Evil Except When Have Soul'. Even if the math had become a little more complex, it was still basically good.

Only now he had another problem. Spike. An evil, assumedly, soulless, self admittedly, vampire who did good things. First there was the whole, 'get tortured by the Hellgod and then not ask for anything' incident, as Xander had been calling it. He was seriously considering getting a shorter name for this incident.

But hey, Xander had reasoned. He just wants to get into Buffy's pants and it was far more likely to get into them by not being a grade A jerk. Only, then there was the 'attempting to save hated alter ego from Hellgod's minions, getting injured in process and then not even attempting to stick around and get credit from Buffy' incident. Xander was looking for a smaller name for this event as well.

There was no way Xander could reasonably justify this to himself. At first he had thought that the vampire had disappeared because the sun was about to rise, ignoring the knowledge that the sun had never stopped the vampire from annoying Buffy before and wouldn't start then.

Only, Spike hadn't showed an hour after sunset. It was a fourteen minute walk to the Restfield Cemetery, less if you were an evil, supernatural creature of the night. Xander had checked. It just didn't play out.

If Spike were only interested in getting into Buffy's pants, he would have capitalised on such a good chance for him. Buffy and the others would be grateful for his aid in rescuing William, and he'd have a better shot than he would usually.

This pointed to the fact that he actually loved Buffy, he was stupid and/or he was plotting something. Only, the first one couldn't be true. He didn't have a soul. But Spike was not stupid either, even though all his plans had fallen apart, and if her were plotting against them, he would have taken the opportunity to blend into the group more.

Shaking his head, Xander decided that he would just finish delivering the pizzas like he was supposed to and trust that events would work out for the best.

* * *

Spike stared blackly at the opposite wall of his crypt. He was a bloody disgrace is what he was. The Slayer, _his_ Slayer, had asked him to do one thing, to rescue the ponce, and what does he do? Get tossed off the bloody tower by some geriatric demon and smashed up all his ribs.

Of course, Buffy had saved the little nance. She always did. Never left anyone behind. Which only made his failure so much more evident. The Slayer hadn't even stopped at the bloody demon, just tossed him off the edge.

How many times had Spike said that if he was only given a chance he would prove himself to the Slayer? And the first time he gets that chance, what does he do? Get seven kinds of crap kicked out of him and fail her.

"Spike?"

And now the Slayer was here to tell him all about how pathetic and useless he was. He sank to the floor dejectedly, resting his weight carefully against the side of the sarcophagus.

"'m here, Slayer." the vampire wheezed carefully. "Here to stake me, then?" he asked as the small blonde wandered into the crypt. She just looked at him in confusion for a minute. Spike was shocked to see no stake in her hands. Almost every encounter he and the Slayer had ever had involved a stake in some way. Just never the way Spike wanted.

"Is that some masochistic vamp kick or something? Why would I stake you?" Buffy asked, puzzled. She watched as Spike leaned his head back against the sarcophagus and closed his eyes.

"For not saving boy wonder, for loving you, for being an evil vampire. Take your pick." he replied, his weariness echoed in his voice and bearing. Spike opened his eyes after a minute of not being staked and found himself looking into Buffy's green eyes.

"I'm not going to stake you." the Slayer told him solemnly. At Spike's hopeful look, she elaborated, "So long as you aren't being actively evil, killing or feeding off people or annoying me too much."

Buffy was entirely surprised by the emotion in Spike's eyes. She had no idea her words would have effected him like that. His face was completely blank, but his eyes were full of shock and adoration.

"You're not going to stake me?" he asked in an almost painfully hopeful tone. His eyes narrowed sharply as a thought occurred to him. "Or set me on fire, or drag me into the sun, or decapitate me, or douse me in holy water?"

Buffy rolled her eyes then shook her head. "Now, are you going to come to the victory party or are you going to stay here and brood?"

"I am not bloody brooding!" Spike roared, springing to his feet before groaning loudly.

Buffy looked at Spike blankly for a moment before asking softly, "Are you hurt?"

"Nothing that can't be fixed by a little blood and a little booze." Spike replied in an artfully breezy tone. "Now, what was that about a party?"

* * *

William was incredibly uncomfortable. This 'post-apocalypse' party seemed to be a small gathering of friends, vastly different to what he associated with a party. For the most part, he was glad. He'd never fit in in his own time and he was happy he wasn't put in the same social situation in this one.

Of course, the flip side was that this gathering was infinitely more intimate, and his outsider status was made obvious. Willow and her friend Tara were talking softly near the table where Xander had put the pizzas. Xander and his new fiancé were talking animatedly next to the stereo. Buffy was conversing with her sister conspiratorially

, casting looks at him and Spike, while Mrs Summers and Rupert inserted the odd comment just as quietly.

His feeling of discomfort was not helped by having to stand with Spike. Not only was it disconcerting to try to talk to someone who looked very like you, he was in a foul mood this evening, glaring at everyone and everything that wasn't a Summers woman.

The problem had been compounded earlier, when Xander had attempted to talk to Spike. The vampire had just looked at the boy witheringly, before taking a long draught out of a flask he had been nursing all night. The young carpenter had just left at that point, and William had been loathe to follow. Not only were his new injuries somewhat painful, he did not want to inflict his presence on someone who did not want it. At least Spike deserved any discomfort he took from William's presence.

"I want to thank you," William began in a low tone, "for trying to save me on the tower." Spike glowered at the young man and opened his mouth to speak. "I know you did not do it to save me but because Buffy asked you but... it's still more than anyone else has done for me." he concluded faintly.

Spike looked at William intently for a moment. "I know" he said, just as softly. The two men, time traveller and vampire, connected with remembrance of past indignity. The tender moment was ruined when something one of the foursome said something that had Dawn giggling.

Finally growing tired of his exclusion, William walked over to Buffy, Joyce, Rupert and Dawn. Their voices grew more hushed as he approached, until he finally reached them. The four stared at him for a moment, before Buffy and Dawn looked at something that Rupert was holding and burst out in fresh giggles.

William's questioning glance was only answered by a vague gesture towards Rupert, who had a vaguely amused look on his face. When the older man nodded towards his hand, and held said hand out, William took a closer look.

It was a small, plastic card. Looking closer, he saw it had a picture of him in it. It must have been taken the day he had been given his 'makeover', as the girls insisted it be called, as his hair was gelled, which he had not done since.

Surely this was not what had the girls giggling. He stared at the card, looking for a reason why they would laugh now when they didn't before. William nearly jumped out of his skin when Spike, who had slunk up, exclaimed loudly,

"Oh sodding hell!"

It was then that William realised there was writing on the card. Apparently, this card identified someone, _him_, as William Giles. Giles. That is what they had been laughing at. His frantic, bewildered gaze shot up to the elder British man, who shrugged apologetically.

"It was the best I could do." Rupert murmured as the girls once more burst into laughter.

* * *

**A/N: **_Sorry about how long that took. I had a lot of trouble with that chapter. I feel that the last two were far better, as this one seemed a little forced. Hope I don't disappoint, _


	11. Misunderstandings and such

**A/N: **_Inspiration and an intense desire to write a good chapter struck me today. I realised that I need to insert some more comedic romanticy bits. So, let's see what we can get started, eh?_

**Disclaimer: **_So I'm in the middle of an important meeting, when inspiration struck I squeaked, squealed and fidgeted until I got sent home to work on this, and _that_, Your Honour, is why it couldn't have been me who stabbed Joss Whedon at 7:13 PM in the left eye before making off with his characters..._

_**Last time, on Crushed: **Joyce mothered William, even though he didn't need it. Buffy invited Spike, who was -not-, despite what some people would claim, brooding. Spike does not brood, he dwells, he thinks, etc. Anyhoo, Buffy invited Spike to post-apocalypse party, which pretty much sucked. Giles seemingly adopted William, getting him a modern identity. What happens next?_

* * *

**Misunderstandings and such**

William stepped into the shower spray, letting the hot water bead down his back. He was staying at the Summers' household while Rupert entertained an old friend of his from England, Olivia, whom he hadn't caught up with for some time. Even though William had never had that many close friends, he could see that privacy would be desired while recollecting. As he washed his light brown hair, he pondered what the coming week would bring to him.

Rupert and the others had been simply wonderful. He'd spent the summer learning what he needed to so he could pass in this society, Xander had helped mostly with that, and they had gone about getting him enrolled in the tertiary education establishment in this town. Willow and Rupert had been adamant supporters for William to go to college.

This option had only recently come about, as Rupert had used his connection with an organisation from England, the Council of Watchers, to create him a faux identity. The only flaw in their method was that they needed someone who could vouch as a relative of William's, thus his new family name.

William was looking forward to college immensely. It seemed to be something that he would enjoy on a purely academic level, and it gave him a chance to meet people outside of the Scoobies, who William was fairly sure were only his 'friends' out of some small pity and obligation.

Not that he believed that they actively disliked him, they had proven themselves beyond that. No, William suspected that he was a lot more like Spike in their eyes. Someone to be tolerated for reasons of fate, chance or blind luck.

William closed his eyes and just let the hot water cascade down his lithe form. Showers, next to television and those little marshmallows that go in hot chocolate, were the best thing about this time. It was very soothing to get hot water nearly instantly that didn't go cold before you were done. Plus, the pounding rhythm of the water was therapeutic.

With a sigh, William turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. As his foot hit the floor, the door to the shower swung wide open, revealing a very shocked Dawn standing in the doorway with her walkman on her ears.

William froze. He stood as unmoving as the teenager, both staring at the other in blind panic. The tense moment was broken when the bar of soap fell from it's haphazard position in the little holder, and William let out an odd squawk and fell back into the shower as Dawn spun on her heels. The pair began to apologise furiously at the same time.

"I'm so sorry!-"

"I- I'm terribly sorry!-"

"-my walkman was on so I didn't hear the water-"

"-and you just opened the door and I didn't know how-"

"-mom just wanted the aspirin that are-"

"-should have locked the door-"

"-had absolutely _no_ idea you were in here-"

"-still so horribly sorry-"

"-maybe I should just go!"

Dawn suggested desperately, the back of her neck as red as William's face was. William let out a little yelp that was taken as an affirmative response, and William was left standing in the bathroom, thoroughly mortified.

* * *

Buffy sat at her vanity table, brushing her hair out. It was amazing how tangled and dull it got during a week when she didn't pay attention to it. She had thoroughly convinced herself that her sudden rekindled interest in her appearance had absolutely nothing to do with wrong, lusty feelings she was most certainly _not_ having about certain evil, chipped vampires. Buffy paused mid stroke to figure out the complexities of that thought.

She had decided that her feelings for the blond vampire had not changed. It was hate and loathing. Loathing and hate. Big on the hate-age from this end. No thawing out at all, because Buffy Summers was the ice queen. A small frown settled on her delicate features, before she shrugged it off. That last thought just didn't seem right.

Anyway, while Buffy was grateful Spike had been helping as of late, she was still holding that 'chain-Buffy-to-the-wall-to-declare-feelings-of-warm-fuzzy-nature-which-shall-not-be-named' event against Spike. Far against him. The fact that he had been a perfect, attracti- not attractive. Not not attractive, just not attractive.

Shrugging off the confusion her seeming determination to use as many double negatives in her thoughts as possible, Buffy finished off the last few brushes of her hair before heading downstairs.

As Buffy rounded the bottom of the stairs, heading to the lounge room, Dawn looked up at her from the couch and looked her up and down, a small frown on her forehead. Buffy looked down at herself as well, fearing to find her clothes were mismatched or dirty or, or covered in lint or something but found nothing.

"Have you got a date tonight?" Dawn asked, her confusion obvious. Buffy looked at Dawn as if she were a little odd, which was entirely a possibility.

"Uh, no. Earth to Dawn, when have I had time to get a date?" Buffy replied, now just as confused as her younger sister.

"Then why are you all dressed up?" Dawn's confidence in such a winning point blatantly obvious. Buffy looked at her clothes again. Her red leather pants and her favourite strappy black top. Nothing that flashy. "Admit it, you have a date tonight."

"Huh?" Buffy's intelligent reply. "I'm _not_ going out tonight!" She felt forced to add as Dawn's expression turned skeptical. "Just patrolling with Spike-"

"Aha!" the youngest Summers crowed, a look of malicious glee crossing her elfin features. "You have a thing for Spike!"

"What? I so do not!" she replied quickly. Too quickly, from the look on Dawn's face. "There is no having of any kind!" So maybe some small, insignificant really, wrong lusty feelings had come up about the vampire. Anya had said it best. He is aesthetically pleasing even if he is not her Xander. Not, of course, that Buffy wanted Xander or thought of him in such possessive terms because he and Buffy were just friends, nothing more and-

"Then why are you wearing black and red? Spike's favourite colours." Dawn added, in case her elder sister had missed the significance of it. Not very likely, considering Spike wore nothing but black and red.

"Why shouldn't I wear these? They're mine, not Spike's." the Slayer added defensively. It was just coincidence that Buffy was wearing these colours. No sneaky little voice in her head whispering for her to wear things that Spike would like. Nope, no little head whispers at all. Head whisper-age was zero. Buffy mentally slapped herself. The last thought was just...idiotic.

"Then why are you wearing makeup if all you're doing is patrolling?" Dawn asked, an impish grin set so solidly on her face that Buffy itched to beat it off. Buffy's hand slowly raised towards her face. It was just a little foundation... maybe some lip gloss... maybe a smidge of mascara...

Buffy was saved from the need to reply as William strolled in from the kitchen. Normally, this would not be enough to save Buffy from Inspector Dawn, but for some reason that had Buffy extremely grateful, both the Englishman and her sister froze, looking at the other for a moment, before both looked away blushing heavily.

"I- I'm sorry. I didn't realise you- that this was- I'll be in the kitchen if anybody needs me" William finished in a rush, back peddling from the room at a rapid pace. Dawn murmured something similar and retreated to her room.

Buffy relaxed into the sofa. Finally, she was free from annoying little sisters who asked such stupid questions. Buffy looked at the clock. 8:26 PM. So what if she was wearing makeup? She was allowed to do that. This was America, not Russia. She was a free person damn it, and if she wanted to wear makeup she would!

Buffy looked at the clock again. The clock had to be broken. There was no way that time was actually that slow. Maybe it was already 8:30 and Spike was late. Buffy was just about to get up and look at the clock, to see if it was really broken even if Buffy knew nothing about clocks, when it ticked over. 8:27 PM. Buffy sighed.

After the torturous two minutes passed, there was a knock on the door. Spike was perfectly on time. Buffy jumped to her feet, not in any way feeling happy little butterflies in her stomach, and nearly ran to the door. As Buffy reached out to open the door and go patrolling, she heard her mother's voice.

"You look good, honey. Do you have a date?"

* * *

Spike sullenly stared into the darkness of the cemetery he and the Slayer were patrolling. He'd thought that he and the Slayer were beginning to get along better. Almost be friends and all that rot. He had almost - almost - accepted that the Slayer would never love him, but he would take what he could get.

And now this. She had a bloody date set up tonight. The last Sunday before college started up again. He and the Slayer'd planned to patrol most of the night, as it was one of the busiest of the year, with all the nasties out to get all the little schoolies while they were out partying one last time before it was back into the daily grind.

He'd thought the Slayer had more moral fibre, to be honest. Here she was, planning on going out on a date while all the nasty vamps and demons were snacking on the locals. It was an appalling work ethic, and Spike was wholeheartedly opposed to it. She should be out making the world safe for kittens and Christmas, etc, not trying to find some guy for a quick snog before she went back to school.

And she was being too bloody chatty. It was obvious she was nervous. Probably thought Spike hadn't realised that she had made other plans and wasn't looking forward to telling him. It's not as though Spike had nothing better to do. He'd recently heard about some poker games down at Willy's. He could be doing that instead of being tortured, metaphorically speaking, by the Slayer.

"It's pretty quiet tonight, isn't it Spike?" Buffy asked him in a far too cheerful tone. Spike snorted loudly and lengthened his stride.

"It's perfectly bloody fine, Slayer. Go off on your date already." Buffy's eyes widened, almost comically, at Spike's words and she started to jog a little to keep up with the vampire.

"Why does everyone think I have a date tonight?" the Slayer asked in an aggrieved tone. Spike stopped suddenly, and stared at Buffy incredulously while she skid past him, not expecting the sudden halt.

"You don't have a date? Then what the bloody hell is this," a vague gesture at Buffy, "for? What are you playing at, Slayer? You think it's funny, do you?" Buffy just stared at Spike blankly, obviously not following his train of thought. "I don't need this sodding game of tease-Spike." he snarled, before turning on his heel and stalking away from the Slayer.

"Spike, wait!" Buffy called out, but her plan to jog up to the vampire and stop him - Buffy wasn't sure what would come after that, her mind seemed to be working a little slowly when Spike was around these days - when a nasal voice called out.

"Slayer!" Buffy rolled her eyes and turned, only to be confronted with three obviously inept vampires. They looked like the chess club at Sunnydale High. "We're going to kill you!" one of them declared, his voice oddly accented due to his fangs. Buffy rolled her eyes.

"Do you know how rude it is to cut in when someone's having a conversation?" the Slayer asked, her hands hanging loosely at her sides. The nerd vamps snarled and charged, looking even more pathetic. It appeared that the whole, Creature of the Night thing did not automatically come with in-built cool.

Sidestepping the hopeless vampire, Buffy drove her stake into the first one before lashing out with a foot, catching another behind the knee. As she bent down and staked the fallen vampire, the third, and now only, vampire turned and ran away.

Sighing in disgust, the Slayer looked for the vampire she had been patrolling with, but he was long gone. Buffy stomped home, grumbling the whole time in frustration. Her 'totally-not-a-date' with Spike was ruined, ironically, by vampires.

* * *

William lay on the small cot in the basement of the Summers household, ostensibly going to sleep. In reality, he was very much awake.

Part of his wakefulness was due to nerves. He was unsure what to expect from college tomorrow, and his confidence was nearly non-existent when dealing with such a large group.

Another large part of his lack of lethargy, was worry and embarrassment. He had been unprepared for Dawn to just walk into the shower, then he had been paralysed by shock. Now he was worried he had scarred the young girl for life. It simply wasn't proper for a girl her age to see a man in a state of nature.

William heard a door open and slam shut from upstairs, before a staccato thumping as Buffy, presumedly, thundered her way upstairs to her room, beyond William's hearing range.

The young Englishman yawned widely, thinking he would never get to sleep before proving the lie within five minutes, his soft snores filling the small basement room as the young man dozed.

* * *

**A/N**: _I feel that chapter was much better than the last. Remember to read and review people, it encourages me to write faster. Reviews and shame. The two most powerful motivators known to this woman. Also, keep an eye out for a new fic I am planning on making. All-human high school with a twist I have yet to see, surprisingly. Anyhoo, REVIEW!_


	12. Some things are new and some things… are...

**A/N: **_I couldn't abandon my public for another fiction. Besides, William is just so much fun to write. If any of my readers want a chance to chat, my e-mail is __and I am always willing to chat with readers or writers. Excuse any discrepancies with the actual American college system. I am Australian. We don't even call it college..._

**Disclaimer: **_I am running short on nonsensical disclaimers, having to spread them over several multicoated stories. From now on, the disclaimers shall present how I felt at the time of writing. I feel itchy._

_**Last time, on Crushed:** Dawn walked in on William in the shower. Oh my! Everyone thought Buffy had a date but she only had patrol with Spike. Dawn said she had a thing for Spike. Buffy maintained there was no thinging or having of any kind where Buffy and Spike were concerned. Then Spike got angry because Buffy was dressed for a date, and he left. Poor Buffy? Poor Spike? Let's find out what happens next..._

* * *

**Some things are new and some things... aren't**

Willow was nervous. She really was. She and Tara had volunteered to watch William for the first half of his first day at college. Not even the whole day. Just a few hours before his first class, before Buffy came in and went to the class they shared together with him. How hard could it be?

He'd been really tired. He'd admitted, somewhat sheepishly, that he hadn't gotten much sleep last night, so it was doctor Willow to the rescue. Diagnosis: not enough sleep. Cure: Coffee from the Espresso Pump. Side effects: a William consuming five coffees with no seeming effect, before heading off to the bathroom and returning hyperactive.

Willow wasn't even sure how that worked. She was pretty sure that coffee effected you pretty quick. Within half an hour at least. It had to be some weird, Hellmouthy effect that, an hour after consuming coffee that had done nothing beyond make the young man alert, he had started bouncing on his heels and looking, eerily, like Spike.

She didn't understand that. She got that William was Spike before he got all vampy and fangy, but how did William consuming a lot of coffee make the young man grin, a little bit sinisterly, and unable to stand still? It was like watching a really bored Spike try to convince everyone to come out and kill things with him.

What made the whole experience really surreal was the fact that his speech remained relatively the same. All those Britishisms, 'terribly sorry', 'astounding', etcetera ad infinitum, were coming out of his mouth rapidly. Thankfully, he was saying 'Oh dear Lord' so he hadn't developed some mystical familial connection to Giles. Yet. This was still the Hellmouth, after all.

Now he was going to the toilet again, and Willow was nervous. She wasn't going to say, even in her head, that nothing bad could happen because that was just asking for trouble, and on the Hellmouth trouble was always happy to make guest appearances. The redheaded witch glanced at her lover, her worry clear in her eyes.

"I'm sure he's fine" Tara assured Willow gently. Willow felt some of the tension leave her and she smiled at the blonde witch, getting a soft smile in return. She leaned in and kissed her lover softly. The two girls looked up, startled, as their table jostled. William was standing there, looking shocked. His face was completely red and he fidgeted uncomfortably.

"Oh dear Lord" he murmured, dazed.

* * *

Buffy was not having a good day. Actually, Buffy was not having a good couple of days. Spike had been avoiding her for the most part and she didn't even know why. He still showed up for patrol, but every single time he took one look at her and spent the night completely silent, tension rippling through his hard body.

_No, bad Buffy. There will be no thoughts of Spike's body in any way, shape or form. No thinking about the way his muscles ripple when he fights, or the way he would probably look coming out of a shower- NO! Bad Buffy. No Spike thoughts. No naked Spike thoughts. Especially no wet, naked Spike thoughts... Mmm. Wet naked Spike._

"ARGH!" Buffy screamed, smacking her head on the desk in front of her. This dramatic gesture may have been less conspicuous if she had been in her home, or at least somewhere not very populated. As it was, she was in the middle of English Literature.

"Ms Summers, I understand you may not like having to write this essay but that was completely inappropriate." Mrs Bateman, the professor, stated sternly, her disapproval obvious. William just stared at Buffy in shocked, open mouthed horror.

Which was another thing. Well, two other things. Whatever. He was more of a homework stickler than Willow. It was almost obscene, the way he had all his homework done before the next day. Even the major assignments. He actually asked for more assignments to do. Not for extra credit, either. For fun!

And the other thing, how dare her look so much like her Spike? Okay, maybe it was a bit unreasonable, but Buffy was not in a rational state of mind lately. All these lusty wrong feelings she had been having lately were not helped by having a Spike-a-like hanging around so much. Buffy thought about that particular thought. Not that she was having lusty wrong feelings about Spike, because that's what they'd be. Wrong, not lusty. Although, if they were lusty wrong thoughts, wouldn't they have to be both?

_Wait a minute... since when is he my Spike? Not my Spike, no matter how much I want him. NO! No wanting of any sort. Wanting of any sort leads to the wanting of bad sorts which led to sweaty fun time... which is very, very fun and Spike is probably very goo- NO! No having, or wanting or sweatiness about Spike in any way shape or form. No having, wanting or sweatiness period. Not even on Buffy lone time. Especially not on Buffy alone time. Not at all. Ever. For anything._

Now she was babbling in her head. About Spike. No, about lusty wrong feelings for Spike, which she was not, and should not be, and most importantly again, was not having. It didn't matter how compact yet muscular her was. Buffy smacked her head down on her books again.

"Ms Summers!" The sharp reprimand from her professor was counterbalanced by a sympathetic look from William. Who looked so much like Spike, who was so very- Buffy dropped her head onto her desk and kept it there.

* * *

Spike was drunk. Mercifully drunk off his ass. It was no mean feat for any vampire, and a much harder one for Spike, especially after all the drinking he had done after Drusilla left him and then again after the chip. But this time, with the help of his friend Jack, Spike had managed to get drunk.

It had taken an entire day of consuming alcohol at a rapid rate. Four bottles of JD and two of scotch. He knew he'd made the right decision when he broke into that bottle shop after leaving the Slayer the other night. The drinking was her bloody fault, too.

No matter what the Slayer said, Spike was not stupid. He had been patrolling, on and off, with the Slayer for two years now. He was not deluded about certain aspects of the Slayer's life. Captain Cardboard had been evidence of that, if Peaches hadn't been enough to begin with.

The Slayer liked to have a man handy. Ironic, when she was stronger than any man she knew, emotionally as well as physically, but Spike figured that there was some part of the Slayer who was still a regular little girl, wanting the big strong man to protect her. That thought elicited a snot from the drunk vampire.

And now she was showing up to every patrol wearing makeup, sexy clothes and she was acting off. She kept squirming around, like she wanted to be somewhere else and she kept throwing Spike sideways glances. It was so painfully obvious what she wanted.

She had a beau waiting, or a potential poofter junior, and she wanted to go off and have a nice little snog. Clearly though, the Slayer was grateful that he had not told about lil' sis, because she hadn't told him to piss off once since that whole Glory thing finished.

Her patience was running out though. Every time they patrolled, she looked a little more done up and she was getting even more impatient faster. It was getting palpable. She wanted this mystery nancy-boy, and patrolling with Spike was cutting back on her chances to get a shag, and even though Spike was cutting patrols shorter every night, she was still getting pissy about it.

So, it was decided. Spike would just march up to the Slayer and tell her he wouldn't be patrolling with her any more. True, it would mean less time for him to be with her, but chances are it would make her happy. Happy Buffy meant that Spike was one step closer to getting Friendly Buffy, which was a few steps from Lusting Buffy, which was a short hop, skip and jump from Loving Buffy and, by default, Happy Spike.

His drunken mind running out the potential scenarios, he staggered to his feet and set off, determined to tell the Slayer immediately only to find the sun was still up. After a few minutes contemplating his newly burned hand, he head towards the sewers. She had to show up at the Watcher's shop sooner or later.

He began the trek through the Sunnydale underground, barely stumbling at all.

* * *

Xander walked in the front door of the Magic Box, blinking as the shift from bright, sunny, Californian sunshine to dark, cool, dry shop hit his eyes. His entire body ached from a hard day of construction in the hot sun, and he was looking forward to a little time with his lovely fiancée. What he saw instead made him blink again.

Anya was standing where she usually did when there were no customers, behind the register. However, unlike the usual, she was not counting the money. She was standing there, smiling so brightly and looking so nonchalant, that it was incredibly suspicious.

"Uhh, Ahn?" Xander asked, out beyond his depth. He had a frantic thought that pod people had taken his Anya, but he was reassured when the faux smile disappeared and Anya glared at him. This, he was familiar with.

"Oh, it's just you. Get in there. I'm on lookout duty" she stated, seemingly pleased. Xander was just confused, but that was okay. It was his standard frame of mind around the girl who was now counting money. It was part of why he loved her.

"Uhh, Ahn? Lookout duty for what?"

"For Dawn." Xander looked outside, then at his love. Then back outside again.

"Ahn?" he began, his voice carefully neutral. "You do realise it's 5 o'clock in the evening, right?" Anya stared at him blankly for a minute.

"Buffy's sister" she clarified, rolling her eyes. Xander let out a small 'oh' of comprehension, then slunk around the counter to head into the training room, where Anya had gestured.

What he saw there caused him to blink again. The third time in five minutes. That had to be some kind of record. Only not, because that wasn't a very impressive number of times to blink in five minutes. He could do that in thirty seconds. So that whole concept had been pretty stupid. But it made more sense than what he was looking at now.

A panicked Buffy, a flustered Giles, a glasses polishing William, a Tara holding a very large cake and a Willow covered in glitter. Not a very common thing. Well, the flustered Giles happened a lot, but that was beside the point. The William-polishing-glasses was the most disturbing thing though. He looked like a mini Giles when he did that, clothes notwithstanding.

"Uhh, what's going on here?" Xander asked, intelligently. He mentally slapped himself. He hadn't said uhh this much since Willow had tried to tutor him in math in High School. The panic left Buffy's face and the tension left the room.

"We're preparing for Dawn's party" Buffy informed him, turning back to her, apparently sticky, job of decorating. Xander nodded slowly, feeling like he was in the twilight zone.

"Good. That's good... What party?" Everyone in the room except William and Tara groaned. Willow leaned over and slapped Xander's shoulder, leaving a small, glittery handprint on his shirt.

"Her birthday party, you big goof. We're having it tomorrow." the redhead notified him with a grin. Xander's eyes widened and he poked his head out of the training area only to see Anya looking at him already.

"I already got her something Xander. I knew you'd forget, so I picked something up yesterday." Xander continued to stare at his fiancée. "She's a size 5 right?" Xander shrugged his shoulders, strangely not feeling reassured much.

* * *

**A/N: **_I am pretty sure I've altered the time/space continuum for this chapter, but we're all having fun. Hopefully. I never saw Dawn's birthday on the show, so I brought it up when I felt it was necessary. Oh, yeah. It occurred to me that I should thank all of the people who review. It's for you that I finish these chapters. Keep the reviews coming and expect chapters to match. Or whenever I can get them done. This one took me five hours, what with all the little power outs that made me start again and again. And again and again._


	13. It's my party, I just wish it wasn't

**A/N: **_This just started to burst out of me, to be honest. I finished the last chapter two days ago, posted all four new chapters up and once and now I am writing this chapter already. I guess sometimes inspiration gets the better of me. Still, the eight reviews within twelve hours of posting helped this along considerably.  
_**Disclaimer: **_I feel a little bloated, and my fingers inexplicably smell of onion. I don't eat it, I don't cook with it, what the hell did I do that did it? _

_**Last time, on Crushed:** William had a sugar rush. He scared Willow a little, being so hyper. That crazy William. Then he walked in on Willow and Tara kissing and said 'Oh Dear'. Buffy had an oddly confusing session of bad lusty wrong thoughts about a certain vampire... and I'm not talking about Jerry, down at the blood bank either ;). Spike got drunk and decided that Buffy had at least a prospective boyfriend, and was planning to get in her good books by stopping the joint patrols. Silly Spike. Xander got confused a bunch. The Gang was setting up for Dawn's birthday party. What happens next? _

**It's my party, but I really wish it wasn't**

Dawn sat in the passenger seat of what Xander dubbed the Xandermobile. She knew she was walking into a surprise party at the Magic Box. Firstly, because she knew, _knew_ that Buffy and the guys wouldn't forget her first birthday. Considering her Keyness and all. And second, Buffy, Willow, Xander and secrecy? Not a mixy bunch.

Like right now, for instance. Xander was babbling about having left something at the Magic Box earlier when he picked up Anya. Forget the fact that Xander hadn't picked Dawn up from anywhere since the whole Glory thing, and add the fact that it was physically impossible for Anya to leave behind anything of monetary value by accident and it was the most implausible Surprise-Birthday-Party-That-We-Think-Is-Secret-But-Is-Really-_Really_-Not-Excuse ever.

But Dawn, magnanimous young lady that she is, was willing to play along. After all, it would be hurtful for her to disillusion her family and friends and inform them of how bad they are at lying. Well, not her mother or Giles. They lied like champs, but Dawn was politic enough to realise that this was not exactly a compliment to the non-evil.

Besides, it's not like she had any real complaint. She was getting free stuff.

* * *

Xander was very pleased with himself. He'd been assigned Chief Tactical Operative, a.k.a. Pick-Up-Dawn-Guy, and he felt that he'd done wonderfully. Besides, getting Dawn allowed Xander to stop contemplating whatever Anya had gotten Dawn. The possibilities were endless, and far too disturbing to dwell on. Joyce had offered to go, but Xander, having felt useless once the heavy lifting had been done, had convinced her that her powers would be far better used in the name of good rather than deception, and Xander could easily fool Dawn. She was just a naïve fifteen year old.

And it was done. She'd accepted his story about picking her up from her friends to take home because it was getting dark. She hadn't even made a peep when he had mentioned swinging by the Magic Box, so Xander elaborated a little. He'd told her that he had to grab something of Anya's that she had left at the shop, but only because it was on the way. She hadn't even noticed that the Magic Box was five miles out of the way.

Oh yeah. Xander was the master of deception.

* * *

Joyce was worried. They had gone to a lot of trouble setting up Dawn's surprise party, even arranging for most of her friends from school to arrive at The Bronze half an hour after the surprise party so she still spent time with the old people before she went off to her friends.

Joyce was convinced her youngest would like the gift she was getting from her mother. She'd been stealing her and Buffy's makeup more and more regularly and the Dior kit, while expensive, would be enough to thrill her youngest to the back teeth,.

It wasn't the party or the gift that had Joyce worried. They'd let Xander pick her up...

* * *

Giles was worried. He was worried about a lot of things. He was constantly cleaning his glasses in the dim lighting of the Magic Box. He was not equipped to deal with a teenage girl's birthday party or getting her a gift.

Buffy was hard enough to buy for. At least he could always get Buffy a nice axe, or a broadsword. All he knew Dawn liked was horrid music and boys, and he wasn't exactly wanting to get her either. He'd copped out and gone for the lesser of two evils.

He'd gone to the local music shop and bought her a gift voucher, unable to bring himself to actually listen to the aggressively cheerful warbling that passed for modern music in order to find her something that she liked.

* * *

Buffy was worried. Not about Dawn. She'd take the sweater she was given and she'd like it. It cost Buffy $20, so she was going to like it whether she wanted to or not. What Buffy was worried about was Spike.

The vampire had disappeared last night and he hadn't been in his crypt earlier today. It was very unlike Spike to not show up for patrol, and for him to not be found easily the next day was unheard of. It was almost like he didn't want to be found, but it wasn't that. It couldn't be that. Spike had not been so hard to find ever since Dracula had come to town.

Buffy sat in the dim training room, trying not to worry. She was, in no way, feeling like a jilted lover.

* * *

Spike was drunk. Not as drunk as he'd been the day before, when he'd managed to knock himself unconscious in the sewers, but still. He was nicely toasted. He'd woken up and stumbled along, bleary eyed until he came to a tunnel he actively recognised.

It was the one that led to Willy's. Willy's meant an open tab and access to some bourbon. Which meant he had a cure to his hangover. You aren't hung over if you're drunk. Simple fact, that. Mutually exclusive and all. Only now he'd been drinking for quite a while and that idea of not patrolling with Buffy was beginning to make sense again.

With determination, Spike set off towards the Magic Box.

* * *

Willow was excited. She loved surprise parties. Okay, so she'd never been to one that worked, but the idea was just awesome. She had been slightly put out when she'd been banned from coffee, but her enthusiasm got the better of her.

She and Tara had gotten Dawn a really good gift. A marble chess set. Sure, it was a little elaborate and a little pricey, but it was something that was both educational and fun. Well, not so much on the educational once you learned how to play, but it was good for your brain. Like fish. Brain building was always good.

Willow continued to babble internally.

* * *

Tara was anticipating the party. She'd never really been to a party. Well, not one that hadn't ended in a demon attack or a wine stain before. Only then she'd met Willow, and by extension the rest of the Scoobies.

Of course, then the parties were broken up by demon attacks and shocking announcements. But there'd been more parties and even a party for her. That is what gave her the confidence to make an effort to fit in. They'd all supported her, even Spike. And he's evil.

So Tara was just waiting. Her money was on a shocking announcement this time.

* * *

Anya was bored. This whole waiting thing sucked. Big time. This was time she could have been using to plan out her still secret wedding, or count her money, or even get orgasms. But no. Instead she was in the training room out the back of the Magic Box with the lights turned off so she could surprise a little girl who was too young to discuss sexual experiences with.

But Anya's gift would help with that. She had remembered what Xander had called an appropriate birthday gift and she'd bought Dawn a dress. It was a very provocative dress and Anya was sure it would be helpful in the acquisition of orgasms.

Anya smiled. Many young men would wish to give Dawn orgasms. This would expand on the chances of Dawn achieving orgasms, which would allow Anya to discuss it. A capitalist mind wins out again.

* * *

William tensed in nervousness as the front door of the Magic Box opened loudly.

"Hey, Dawn. Could you check the training room for me? I'll check out here" Xander's voice filtered through the door. William had an odd compulsion to roll his eyes. Even he wouldn't have bought that. Still, he'd never been to a surprise party before.

He had no idea how to handle this whole event. He had gone out and bought Dawn a present with money borrowed from Rupert, who really was like a father these days, and he'd gotten the girls' help in picking his clothes. The only time he'd put his foot down was when Anya suggested he wear those abominable leather pants.

The door opened to reveal a very satisfied looking Dawn. William was the only person in the room surprised when the others all screamed out SURPRISE, mainly because they had forgotten to explain this particular ritual to him.

By the time William's heart stopped thumping wildly, several of the gifts had been handed out. The young man had stepped forward and handed Dawn a slim, square gift covered in plain blue wrapping paper. The teenager rapidly tore the paper off the gift, revealing a book of poetry that William had found in an old bookstore.

At William's prompting, Dawn opened the front cover to reveal a handwritten message from the Englishman in his elegant script. 'Dawn, well wishes on the occasion of your fifteenth. May this book bring you years of pleasure, and remind you of times past. William'. Imagine the young man's surprise when Dawn leaned over and gave him a big hug.

Shortly after that, the party progressed to The Bronze where Dawn, amidst well wishes and gifts, disappeared into the throng on the dance floor. The others shifted between a table off the main path of the floor and the dance floor itself. All except William and Buffy.

There was no one for William to dance with, but Buffy surely had a paramour. As she kept glancing towards the door anxiously, William surmised that she was waiting on someone who was late so he prudently didn't attempt to strike up a conversation. Not that he conversed regularly with Buffy. She intimidated him, more so than his vampire self.

Speaking of whom. The vampire had just walked in the door of the club. William frowned. Maybe it was just him, but Spike looked fairly dazed. It must be him. William was just taking another sip of his drink when Buffy noticed the bleached vampire. Her face lit up, and she looked unspeakably happy. For all of a second. Her brow came down in a thunderous glare and she moved to intercept the vampire.

Deciding it was none of his business, William left the table and wandered over to find Xander. He found the carpenter by the bar, getting more drinks for the others who had congregated around the table in William's absence. The young Englishman went and stood beside Xander for a moment. The other man was one William felt he could trust, and they seemed to be getting along fairly well. William decided to ask.

"Xander?" He grappled with his awkward question while the other man grinned, slightly breathless still from dancing. "Did you know that Willow and Tara... that they... well..." Xander continued to watch William, a puzzled expression slowly emerging. 'Oh, bugger this' William thought. "Did you know that they kiss each other?"

* * *

Spike had entered The Bronze in confusion. The Magic Box had been empty, but it had smelt like they'd been there earlier. There was no fear, or blood, or signs of a fight, but they were all gone. Normally, he would have just gone straight to the Summers' household, but both Joyce and the little Bit had been in the Magic Box. So he followed his nose.

And it led him to The Bronze. He couldn't, for the unlife of him, figure out why they'd all be here at once. He was brought out of his, slightly drunken, musings by the sight of the Slayer coming towards him, all dolled up and looking like she wanted to tear Spike apart. He guessed she was on the big group date thing.

"Where the hell have you been?!" Buffy hissed at him. Spike blinked slowly. This couldn't be right. The Slayer wanting him to have been there earlier? Maybe he'd had more to drink than he thought. "Dawn thought you weren't coming!"

The pieces fell into place. A party. A party no one had told him about. A party he'd stumbled onto for his sweet bit. A party he had no gift for. Of course, with the daggers the Slayer was glaring his way, he couldn't admit that, could he? He'd look like a right prat.

"Course I'm coming. Can't miss Nibblet's big day now, can I?" the vampire smirked, outwardly confident but inwardly flying into panic. Now here's been seen there was no, sneak-away-without-getting-noticed option. Any hope Spike had of making it out without bumping into Dawn was dashed as a lanky, brunette shadow blurred into the vampire, nearly knocking him over.

"Spike! You came!" The young girl's enthusiasm was catching, and from the glance Dawn threw to her friends, Spike surmised that the hug was as much as proving she knew him to her friends as genuine affection.

"You think I'd miss your birthday party, Platelet?" Spike asked, his hands groping through his pockets madly in the hope of finding something suitable to give her. His fingers latched onto a fine metal chain in his pants pocket and he pulled it out, hoping for the best. "Here, sorry it's not wrapped."

"Oh, Spike..." the girl sighed. Since she didn't sound disgusted, the vampire actually looked at what he had given the young girl. It was a fine silver chain that connected to a locket that dangled between his fingers. A single blue gem gleamed in the middle. Spike blinked. _Where the bloody hell did that come from?_ "It's beautiful" the youngest Summers breathed, turning her back and lifting her hair, allowing Spike to fasten the latch around the back of her neck.

After a few short exchanges between the sisters that Spike missed, Dawn kissed Spike's cheek and bounced off to see her friends and show them the new gift. Spike stared after her and wondered where the hell he had picked up that locket, but immensely pleased he did.

"Did you pay for that?" The Slayer's acidic tone cut through Spike's daydreaming. He cast a withering glance her way then rolled his eyes. To be honest, he wasn't sure. Then it occurred to him why he was there.

"No need to get your knickers in a twist, Slayer. Wanted to tell you that there's no need for us to keep patrolling together." Spike turned on his heel and sauntered out, unable to see the relived look on the Slayer's face that meant she was getting away from him.

* * *

Buffy was stunned. Spike didn't want to patrol with her anymore. She knew she probably looked like a deer in the headlights, but she was having trouble breathing past an odd constriction in her chest. Spike didn't want to patrol with her. Didn't want her.

He'd been cutting off their patrols earlier and earlier, like he had to be somewhere else. Or someone else. Buffy wasn't sure why that thought was so painful, because she knew she didn't want anything to do with him.

Then he just didn't show up to a patrol. Probably too tired to even pretend to be interested in the activity any more. His new someone was probably waiting for him. That's probably why he told her that he wouldn't be patrolling any more.

He could give Dawn a really good gift, possibly the best one yet, but he couldn't even pretend to want to be around her. Shows how much he loved Buffy. The someone he was with was probably Drusilla. If it was, Buffy would have to stake the bitch. Unusually, the motivation that Drusilla was a cold blooded, psychotic killer and should be killed for that didn't occur to Buffy. She sat down at the group table and sulked.

_Stupid vampire. Probably only wanted me because he was bored. Or maybe because he couldn't have Drusilla because of the chip. Or maybe he was back with Harmony. Or maybe he never wanted me and just wanted to screw with my head._

Buffy blinked as she realised that the last possibility bothered her more than the others. Not that she cared. In fact, she was forgetting about it right now. It was while she was not caring about and forgetting Spike that the roar of engines came from outside, followed by screams.

Jumping to her feet and running out the door, Buffy saw something that shocked her. A large number of demons, riding on motorbikes, absolutely trashing the streets and laughing about it. While she ran inside to inform the rest of the gang, her only cognisant thought was;

_Where's Spike when you need him?_

* * *

**A/N:**_I feel that last chapter was a mixed bag, but I've been wrong before. Make sure to review if you want me to update. And look, I get about ten reviews and it's up the next day. Keep reviewing people, it lets me know what I need to change. Also, I'm getting a little worried about my characterisation at this point. I worry that the characters are becoming unrealistic. Let me know what you think.  
  
P.S. the bikers are the same one from Bargaining._


	14. Always get proof of purchase

**A/N:**_ I'm not trying to give the impression of ransoming chapters for reviews. I'll keep posting for a while yet, but keep reviewing. It's inspiring is all. And for those of you wondering about the necklace, it does do something but it is not the one that summons Sweet. It's my invention for an upcoming plot twist. And spuffy is on the way people, but nothing in the Buffyverse is ever that simple.  
_**Disclaimer:**_ I feel kind of tired and a little bit dizzy, but my fingers don't smell like onion anymore, so we're all happy here._

_**Last time, on Crushed:** The Scoobies threw a not so surprise party for Dawn. Dawn got presents. Yay Dawn. The party went to the Bronze. Spike showed up, drunk, and gave Dawn a necklace. Yay Spike. He didn't know where it came from anymore than we did. Hmm. Then Buffy felt bad when Spike said he wasn't patrolling anymore. Then some demon bikers showed up. What happens next?

* * *

_

**Always get proof of purchase**

"Okay boys," Razor, the head biker growled, "this town is going to be ours. We've gotten word that the Slayer isn't even patrolling much these days. She's gotten weak, and we're moving in!" The biker demons roared in agreement. "Now let's wreck this dump!"

* * *

Spike grinned maniacally, before driving his fist into the biker's face again. This was exactly what he needed, a good spot of violence to help him forget his Slayer troubles. The vampire ducked under a clumsy swing from the pathetic excuse for a demon before jabbing the demon in the ribs then ramming his knee into the demon's face with a sickening crunch.

Wrapping an arm around the demon's neck, Spike wrenched hard, snapping it with a crunch. The demon collapsed with a dull thud, and the peroxide blond shrugged his duster back into place. The vampire looked around casually for another demon to wale on. Not seeing one readily available, he grunted in frustration before slinging a leg over the bike. No sense in wasting such a fine machine.

Pulling back the throttle, Spike tore down the streets of Sunnydale. The houses whipped past in a blur as he let the speed rush over him. Unlife used to be a hell of a lot simpler back before he had to worry about who he could hit. Unlife used to be easier before he loved the Slayer. Hell, unlife just used to be easier.

Spike slowed the bike to a halt as he neared The Fish Tank. Willy's was not worth the effort tonight and The Bronze was off limits because of the Slayer and her mates, so it was off to the only other place in town.

As he sauntered into the bar, a large number of people, three guys and five girls, started staring at him. Now, this often happened when Spike went into the Bronze, as his bleached hair and black clothes made him stand out among the upbeat teenagers but generally he didn't attract such notice from the denizens of the Fish Tank, which attracted the rougher aspects of the human crowd.

But these people weren't staring at him in lust, fear or disgust but in confusion. This one was new for Spike, but he shrugged it off and head towards the bar. After he downed his first scotch of the night he heard a clear feminine voice behind him.

"William? Is that you?" Spike turned slowly. "Oh my God! It is! I love the new look!" The vampire raised an eyebrow. The ponce knew this bird? Spike's respect for William grew as he looked over the slutty little number in front of him. "I never thought I'd see you here"

"Life's just full of surprises, innit pet?" Spike drawled, stretching slowly before rising and following the girl back to William's friends.

* * *

The demons had found Buffy while she looked for Spike. There were a lot of them, and she wanted to be sure that she got them all. Her search had nothing to do with the fact that she had been aching to give a certain peroxide blond a tongue lashing. And not of the fun kind... _Bad Buffy!_

The Slayer's self recrimination was cut short by the roar of four bikes, which became visible shortly after she heard them. The demons were ugly, which is generally a given. They all wore leather, and their smooth faces were split in three places. Two eyes and a shallow gash for a mouth, full of overlapping sharp yellow teeth.

"Slayer!" the biggest and, therefore, ugliest snarled.

"Slayee!" Buffy returned cheerfully. One of the minions took a swing at Buffy, and she used it's momentum to grip his wrist and send him hurtling into minion #2. They went down in a heap. The big one flicked his fingers and a serrated blade sprang from each fingertip as the two demons began to circle the Slayer. The minion attacked first.

Buffy ducked below the inept blow and carried her momentum forward to smash her fist into the chest of the next demon, who flew into the dirty brick wall of the street. Razor snarled and rushed at Buffy, arms held low. The Slayer spun on her heel, her foot driving into the demon's head. Razor crumpled to the ground, his neck snapped from the force of the blow.

"Why don't they ever learn? Slayer plus demon equals dead demon." Buffy stated, looking at the dead biker demon in front of her, nonplussed. Razor's crew looked between their ex-leader and the Slayer, before turning tail and running to their bikes.

Buffy shook her head slowly before beginning to head towards her house. This sorted it. No more patrolling with Spike if having a bunch of demon biker freaks start to raid Sunnydale was the price. And Buffy was in no way upset by this decision.

It was while Buffy was not-moping about no more Spike on patrol that she saw him. With other people. With another person. A female person. A slutty female person. Hanging off his arm. Smiling at him. Buffy stood there for a moment, stunned. She had not expected this.

The woman was practically inside his clothes, right here on the street! And Buffy was not jealous. Why would she be jealous? She didn't want to sleep with Spike. She didn't want Spike period. So Buffy would just show everyone how little she cared that Spike wanted to have vapid whores hanging off his arm. She'd walk right by him and not even look at him or his little floozy.

When Spike saw her, Buffy ran.

* * *

Spike had blinked when he saw the Slayer. She wasn't supposed to be there, and she sure as hell wasn't supposed to be staring at Spike like he'd betrayed her. She wasn't supposed to just turn and run the other way, either.

Shaking of the annoyingly grabby bint, who Spike had put up with so long as she was paying for his drinks, the vampire took off after the Slayer.

"Buffy, love, wait! It's not what you think" he had called out before realising he had no idea what she thought. What the bloody hell had the Slayer thought that made her run away like that? Spike decided that the Slayer was just off her bird. More so than usual.

He picked up the pace, following her back to the Summers house.

* * *

William sat in the kitchen of the Summers home, sipping on a hot chocolate. He looked at Mrs Summers then at Rupert. They both looked incredibly uncomfortable and the tension in the room was palpable. The two elder people were deliberately not looking at each other. When Rupert took off his glasses and began to clean them for no apparent reason, William rose.

"I'll, ah... I'll... be in the living room." he stuttered before ducked backwards out of the room. There was history in that room that William was fairly sure he wanted no part of. He wandered into the lounge room before realising he won't be much more comfortable in here.

He sat down in the chair as far from the other couples as possible. He'd been forced to come to terms with the almost indecent premarital activities partaken in public, but he was having some... difficulties with Willow and Tara's relationship. He had nothing against two people in love expressing that in whatever way made them comfortable, but this was new for William. The idea had never even occurred to him before seeing the two kiss, much to Xander's disgust.

Still, since they were only holding hands at this point, William felt confident enough to listen to the conversation, and possibly participate. Dawn was ranting, so that meant it was less a conversation than a talking to. William almost smiled when he realised he had just had a slightly uncharitable thought. His time in America was beginning to show.

"And then Buffy has to just get all angry at him because he doesn't want to spend time with her anymore. She was, like, a total drain on my party." Dawn's arms waved wildly as she complained about her sister. "And he even went and got me a cool present, which, okay, he probably didn't pay for because he's an evil vampire, but I think it's a big step in the right direction when he remembers to get a birthday present for someone else." As the girl said this, she fingered something hanging on a chain at her throat. "You guys wanna see it?"

Anya's hand was out before you could blink, her love of all things of monetary worth legendary by now. The small locket was passed from hand to hand, with each person there making the appropriate remarks.

"This is a good gift. It cost a lot of money." Anya.

"Hey, it's shiny. That's a plus, right Dawnster?" Xander.

"It's nice." Tara.

"It's really neat!" Willow.

And now it was William's turn. He held the intricate little locket in between his elegant fingers. It seems his vampire self had outdone him once again. Better at everything. Still, it was a very nice gift and William was glad that, as a vampire at least, he knew how to get a gift for a pretty girl.

Finely wrought silver chain connected to what appeared to be a pretty locket with a blue gemstone set in the middle. William looked closer. He could almost swear the faint engravings on the locket were glowing blue. It was excellent craftsmanship.

"It's lovely" he murmured, handing the bauble back to it's owner. Dawn beamed, as thought the praise to her possession was praise to her. She had opened the clasp and was about to place the chain around her neck when the front door swung open and Buffy stormed through it, only to halt in the hallway between the dining room and the living room when Spike burst through the door and grasped her elbow.

"Slayer, will you just listen to me for one bloody minute?" the vampire asked, obviously not for the first time and just as obviously agitated. "I don't even know the bird. She's friends with the pillock," a head jerk in William's direction, "over here. I don't even know why you're so brassed off."

Buffy turned and looked at Spike coldly. "What makes you think I care which skanks you sleep with?" The vampire growled in response, running his hand roughly through his bleached locks.

"If you don't care either way, Slayer, you have a funny way of showing it!"

* * *

Giles had risen to his feet the moment he heard the door slam open, and he'd arrived at the doorway in time to hear Spike's impassioned complaint about Buffy's attitude. So Giles wasn't just the only one noticing that Buffy had been acting oddly around Spike. Giles had suspicions, and he didn't like them.

Giles noticed Joyce shutting the front door before turning to watch her daughter and the vampire arguing. Whatever Buffy's reply was going to be, it was cut off by everyone noticing almost simultaneously that Dawn's locket was glowing bright blue.

Everything seemed to be in slow motion as Giles watched Buffy take the three steps it took to reach Dawn, then snapping the necklaces chain and throwing the locket away from her family and friends. As it spiralled through the air, it exploded in a bright flash of blue light that hurled Giles from his feet.

His last coherent thought before the blackness of unconsciousness claimed him was; _The summer's over now. I've been officially knocked out for the first time._

* * *

"Mrs Summers? Joyce?"

Joyce stirred as she heard the clear, feminine voice call out her name in refined British tones. She slowly opened her eyes, her head throbbing from where it had hit the wall after the locket had exploded and tossed her into the dining room. What she saw shocked her.

It was a very pretty girl staring at her. Joyce blinked, then sat up and looked at the girl. She had sandy brown hair down to her shoulders with a natural wave to it. Her blue eyes were large in her delicate face, magnified by the masculine glasses she was wearing. Her soft, full lips sat under an elegant nose and she had incredibly high cheekbones. But this was only the beginning of the strangeness.

The young woman was wearing men's clothes. Not masculine clothes, but the clothes of a man. She had on a pair of jeans too tight at the hips but too baggy everywhere else and a long sleeved shirt that, while hanging low on her hips, was far too tight at the bust for the woman's fairly ample bosom. And despite the fact that Joyce was sure she'd never seen the girl before, she seemed very familiar.

"Mrs Summers, are you okay?" the girl asked in a quiet, refined British accent. Joyce's sense of familiarity only grew. She nodded absently and looked around the house.

"Who are you, dear?" Joyce asked softly, not wishing to startle her guest. Clearly she failed, as her guest's mouth opened and closed several times before she answered slowly.

"It's me, William."

* * *

**A/N: **_Ooh, aren't we all just wondering what exactly is happening here? You'll all find out in the next chapter, of course. Keep in mind that I am using this fic to incorporate several ideas that were originally going to be entire fics, but I decided against that because I felt that the ideas were too similar and too hard to develop on their own. Still, you get to see them anyway, and it makes this fic a little more like the show._

_This is my answer to a challenge I saw a long time ago, the majority and location of which I have since forgotten. This is will all make sense next chapter. Please review, let me know what you think so far. Those of you who are sitting there going, "What the he...?", trust me. You have so far._


	15. Okay, this is plain confusing

**A/N:**_Okay, I don't think I've estranged too many of my readers, let's see if this chapter will do it. Keep in mind that, in future, I will be adding storylines that are not directly related to my final story arc, much like the seasons of the show. Any ideas I have that I feel would not make good standalone stories, I will be putting in here. So long as it fit's the tone. Also, I apologise for overusing the word demon early last chapter, as I wrote it at several different intervals so my mind was jumping back and forth.  
_**Disclaimer:**_ I feel really weird, like everything is surreal or something. It could have something to do with the fact I'm watching The Rocky Horror Picture Show and Natural Born Killers late at night..._

_**Last time, on Crushed: **Spike fought biker demons and 'liberated' a bike. Yay petty theft. Buffy killed more biker demons. Yay continuous slaughter. Spike stumbled across William's friends from college and milked them for free drinks. Yay mooching. Dawn complained about denial-Buffy and showed off her locket, which exploded a short time later. Whoops-a-daisy. Then Joyce woke up to see a woman claiming to be William. What happens next?

* * *

_

**Okay, this is plain confusing**

"Dawn, honey, wake up."

Joyce's voice filtered through Dawn's sleepy state. She was not feeling particularly good. Her skin felt too tight, and her body felt as though it was being squished. She moaned softly and tried to go back to sleep, only to be woken by gentle shaking.

"Mom, I don't want to go to school" Dawn croaked, her voice strangely deep._ Hold up, _she thought_. My voice isn't that deep. _She cracked an eye open to see her mom's carefully calm face hovering about a foot above her own. Dawn rubbed a hand over her face to wake up and froze, her hand covering her face. Her usually small hand was suddenly much larger and much rougher, and her entire face felt different.

Sitting up and looking down at herself in panic, Dawn almost abstractly noticed her new figure. A lean, coltish young man's body had replaced her previously delicate, feminine one. Her newly broadened shoulders now stretched her glittery top to the limits of the fabric and her jeans were almost painfully tight.

Dawn raised her head in shock and looked around the lounge room. She could see her mom and Giles, but there were other people who were complete strangers. An elegantly muscular man with honey blonde hair and hazel eyes, wearing a pair of leather pants several sizes too small and the same black shirt that Buffy had been wearing earlier.

There was a voluptuous brunette wearing a pair of jeans too large at the legs but too small at the hips, staring at herself in shock. Next to her was a lean, well formed man staring at himself in undisguised lust.

In the corner, there were too beautiful women who were almost identical staring at each other. They had the same full figure, but they seemed vastly different. One wore black jeans too tight in the hips, what appeared to be a black halter top and a leather duster that draped to the ground, the last inch dragging inelegantly on the floor. Her hair was platinum blonde, and hung at her shoulder blades.

The other woman wore a baggy pair of blue jeans and a plain shirt that was too small for her bust and too large everywhere else, with wavy brown hair that hung to her shoulders. Other than these differences, the two were almost identical. The blonde one arched one sculpted eyebrow, that had a familiar scar running through it.

Shaking her head, Dawn turned to look at the last two people in the room, ignoring the odd feeling in her stomach. The remaining two people were men, both of average height and build, a redhead and a dirty blond, staring at the floor looking acutely embarrassed.

"What's going on?" Dawn asked and felt ridiculous when her voice came out wavering between baritone and tenor. Like an adolescent boy, she realised belatedly. Another quick glance at her body and a surreptitious feel of her pelvis proved her fears. She looked at the confused honey blond man. "Buffy?" The man winced and nodded.

"We believe your necklace to have been the cause of this," Giles stated. "as only the people who had touched it have changed... genders. Unfortunately, the metamorphosis seems to have destroyed it" the British man finished, dashing Dawn's hopes of a quick fix. The beautiful platinum blonde, _Spike_ her mind supplied, looked strangely guilty at Dawn's downcast expression.

"Don't worry, love." Spike's accent was strangely arousing, his clear feminine voice making the harsh emphasis on the words effecting Dawn's new body in ways it wouldn't have effected the old one. "I'll get you a new one after all of this is done."

Buffy's head snapped up. "Another one?" Her voice matched her new body as well, a deep rumbling filled with anger directed at the vampire. "It's your fault that this happened in the first place! You are so not getting her another one."

"How the bloody hell is it my fault, Slayer? Am I supposed to just be able to tell when some ponce has cast a spell to get at the Slayer and her mates?" The vampire and Slayer stood face to face, only with their sudden gender reversal Spike was now the one forced to look up slightly.

"Ahem!" Joyce cleared her throat loudly. Everyone in the house turned to look at the older woman carefully. Joyce could get real scary. "Arguing isn't going to solve anything." Beyond looking pointedly at Buffy, who muttered something to the effect of, 'he started it', Joyce let this sink in. "What we should do is go home, get a good night's sleep and then we should all meet up at the Magic Box tomorrow."

This course of action was generally accepted as all the Scoobies began to head to their respective homes, except Willow and Tara, the redhead and the brunet. "Umm... we don't have any men's clothes at our house" Willow stated, looking embarrassed. There was a moment of awkward silence as everyone processed the implications of that particular statement.

"You... two can come to my house and get some clothes." Giles informed them softly. The whole debacle was confusing and it was late. Perhaps an answer could be found in the morning. At the very least, it would be easier to think when they were all wearing clothes that actually fit. It was very distracting and highly disturbing to find himself glancing at William's... considerable assets. It was, as the children had been fond of saying in High School, wiggy.

* * *

Buffy mentally thanked William for leaving several changes of clothes behind several weeks back. There was absolutely nothing in the house that she and Dawn would have been able to wear if not for those left over clothes. Dawn had raided them first, her lanky form needing the largest clothes, which given William's fairly average height, were not very abundant.

Buffy had to admit, though, that Dawn made a cute boy. The white t-shirt she managed to squeeze into was tight across her shoulders, but the cargo pants had fit her well even if they had left an inch of skin showing at the ankle.

Buffy had found a pair of tracksuit pants and a grey t-shirt, which fit her well. Buffy contemplated how truly weird her life was in Sunnydale as she head up the stairs towards her bedroom. She opened the door and flounced onto her bed. Turning on her side, planning to go to sleep, she nearly fell off her bed in shock.

There was a woman rummaging through her closet, and from Buffy's lack of warning in the mirror, she could only assume Spike. That was only half of the surprise. Judging from the smooth expanse of pale flesh revealed to the Slayer, Spike was looking for clothes that fit. While not wearing any. With frantic eyes, Buffy noted the black clothes that normally graced Spike's body lay in a pile at his feet. Buffy let out a squeak that sounded incredibly odd in her new masculine voice.

"Don't mind me, Slayer. I'll just be a minute." the vampire murmured without looking around. Buffy's eyes widened in outrage. He was going through _her_ things and acting like he had every right to do it. Well, that was going to stop right now. She wasn't going to put up with his attitude, especially after he had that ho hanging off his arm.

"Get the hell out of here, Spike." Ooh, Buffy was pleased with her new voice now. Threats in a deep, low voice carried more weight than any of her old threats. Only, it had less effect than usual, if possible. Spike turned around, with an irritated expression on his face. Which Buffy barely noticed because Spike still wasn't wearing any clothes.

"Listen, love. I either take your mum's stuff, the Bit's or yours. I like your mum too much to take her stuff, and the Bit's stuff isn't big enough, so that leaves you. You got a problem with that, pet?" the vampire asked, hands on hips. Buffy slowly shook her head, unable to draw her eyes from Spike's new pert breasts. With a sharp nod, Spike returned to his rummaging and Buffy shifted a new, almost painful part of her anatomy.

After a few minutes of effort, Spike pulled on a black crop top and the only pair of black leather pants he could find. A few more minutes of searching rewarded the vampire with a pair of thick soled black boots, which were quickly put on. Grabbing his duster and sliding it on, Spike took one look at a very red-faced Buffy before jumping out the open window.

It was several minutes after the vampire left that Buffy began to curse the vampire before getting up to take a much needed cold shower.

* * *

William stood next to Spike at the mall, feeling awkward. Well, more so than usual. Rupert had tried to organise a research party to try and find the spell, but everyone had been too mixed up to focus much. Especially poor Anya and Xander. They had left to the training room four times in the two hours to get a breath of fresh air, and every time they had come back they had been red in the face and looking flushed. They were clearly not taking this well.

The only one who was obviously happy about the change was Spike. He'd surprised everyone by rocking up at the Magic Box an hour late. Actually, they had seemed surprised he had shown at all. He'd been wearing some of Buffy's clothes and his duster and had been looking extremely bored. Until, that is, he noticed Buffy's lust filled stare when he took off the duster. It was obvious that Buffy was ill-equipped to deal with her knew, one-track mind.

At that point, Spike had been smirking non-stop and had entertained himself by flirting shamelessly with Buffy, throwing amused glances at her groin. Still, it's the least one could expect from a soulless, evil vampire. Nothing else would be so improper.

Joyce had arrived with Dawn around lunch time, declaring that she was taking Buffy and Dawn shopping for some clothes while they were changed. Rupert had been absolutely generous and had given Joyce some money so she could bring William along, as neither William nor Rupert knew enough about women's clothes to actually get them themselves.

The trip to the mall had proved stressful. William was uncomfortably aware that his knew body was pleasant on the eyes and he had stuck very close to Buffy, giving many people the impression that they were a couple. That lasted until they had bumped into Spike, the vampire stealing makeup and other small items. Not overtly, of course, but even William knew he was doing it.

"Will, dear, come with me" Joyce called out. William obediently began to head towards the mothering woman but he still heard Dawn ask Spike a question.

"What do I do about... _it_? It moves non-stop!"

* * *

Spike had been enjoying his new body. Sure, it was different than what he was used to but it had one advantage over his regular body. The Slayer wanted this one, in her current form at any rate. He'd noticed it back at the Magic Box, when he'd taken his duster off. The Slayer had been ogling him about it, and new to the pull of the male body, she'd not been very subtle.

Spike had enjoyed himself, teasing her with all the flirty little things he'd picked up in his unlife. He'd found and continued to tease her in the mall, while nicking a few supplies for his time as a female. Unless the vampire was greatly mistaken, she would be suffering from a nasty case of blue balls by now.

Now the Slayer was probably out there, patrolling to blow off some steam. Perfect. Spike put the finishing touches on his black lipstick and dark eye shadow, a hundred plus years as Drusilla's caretaker had it's advantages, straightened his newly stolen skirt and strode out into the night, intent on the Slayer..

He found her outside his crypt. Restfield was not known for it's demon activity, which meant the Slayer was looking for him. Beautiful. He leaned against the crypt wall, so he could watch the Slayer beating on a vampire, far more violently than was strictly necessary. Spike cocked his hip out and waited for the Slayer to notice him. He wasn't waiting long.

Buffy drove the stake into the vampire's chest suddenly, the vampire exploding into dust. Buffy turned on Spike, her body still thrumming with the adrenaline rush the fight gave her, and glared at him. Spike smirked prettily when he noticed the rapid effect he had on the Slayer. This was almost fun. Hell, who was he kidding? Almost? Ha.

"What are you doing here, Spike?" Buffy asked, her deep baritone echoing through the still night. Spike raised a slim, dark eyebrow.

"This is my cemetery, Slayer. What's your excuse?"

"I have to patrol..." she began weakly. Spike laughed musically, strutting over to the Slayer, swaying his hips.

"Let's face it, Slayer. You. Want. My. Tight. Little. Body"

"Please. Ego much?" Buffy scoffed weakly. Spike gripped Buffy's new bulge tightly, causing her to groan.

"It's not ego when it's true, love." the vampire smirked again.

"Why are you doing... this" Buffy gasped. Spike smiled seductively.

"You're not going to like the answer to this, pet. It's because I love you." The vampire's comment was met by Buffy hurling him inside his crypt.

"You can't love, you don't have a soul. No soul, no love." Spike stood.

"If that was true, love, then I wouldn't want you now you're a man. I love what you are, pet" he cooed, as Buffy stepped towards him almost involuntarily.

"Stop it" she feebly ordered. Spike closed the gap between them, pressing his now soft body against her harder, warmer body. He craned his neck, placing his full lips near the Slayer's ear.

"Make me" he breathed softly. Buffy glanced at him, her lust and anger apparent in her gaze. Lifting the vampire up and slamming him against the wall, Buffy pressed her lips to Spike's in a crushing kiss.

* * *

**A/N:**_ Okay, this chapter I have no idea about. I can't tell if it fits in the story, if it's believable. Hell, I can't even tell if my pronoun use is correct or even clear. If it's not, blame it on it being really late while I write this, after just watching two of the most surreal movies I've ever seen. Plus side, I got some Spuffy. Sort of. Maybe. Does it even count when they're opposite genders?_


	16. Guilt always comes after

****

A/N: _Okay, most people seemed to like that last chapter. I'm going to request that people don't review and leave "..." as a message, it's not helpful. Don't like it, tell me. I need to know to improve. Like it, tell me. It inspires. Okay, Buffy DID want Spike in his man body as well, but Spike was oblivious and she repressed. Her new... anatomy resists repression. A lot. What do you think has been goin' on the last few chapters? And I'm thinking of making me a little spin off fic, well, not so little recording the adventures of all the Scoobies in great detail during the change. The changes made were/are necessary, but I'm not going to cover why in much depth here. If I do it here, I'll lose track of the overall story and that leads to badness and songfic... _:P  
**Disclaimer:**_ I feel tired and hung over, even though I haven't drunk any alcohol. Maybe I'm sick. Well, physically. We're all aware of the state of my mind..._

_**Last time, on Crushed:** The Scoobies all woke up the opposite gender. Oh my. Except Joyce and Giles, because they didn't touch the magic pendant. Doesn't THAT sound dirty? Buffy and Dawn used some old clothes of William's that he left there, and Spike stole some of Buffy's. While naked. With Buffy watching. Ooh, isn't that crude? There was mention of a Summers/Giles shopping trip for the changed people of those names, and Spike stole makeup. Naughty, naughty. Then Spike taunted Buffy at his her? crypt. Buffy shut him up with a kiss. Ooh, what happens next?_

* * *

**Guilt always comes after**

Buffy stirred lethargically in the soft bed, feeling more relaxed than she had for a long time. She was warm, happy, a little sleepy and okay, sure, she was in a man's body and had to go to the toilet, but all in all, she was feeling good. She hadn't felt this peaceful since before Riley left. Frowning slightly, Buffy turned in bed, eyes still tightly closed.

And ended up with an armful of moderately warm, supple flesh. Buffy's eyes flew open in shock, realising several things at once.

1. She was not in her room.

2. She was not in her bed.

3. She was completely naked.

4. The woman opposite her was naked.

5. The woman opposite her was Spike.

6. She'd just had sex with Spike.

Buffy's brain shut down. She was unable to have any actual coherent thought beyond inappropriate, if highly arousing, flashbacks of the night before. After a few panic filled seconds, Buffy finally processed something. Spike was naked and so was she. That led to badness of the highest order. The Slayer scrambled off the bed, taking the sheet with her and wrapping it around her chest out of habit. Spike's blue eyes opened.

"Well, that was an experience" the vampire said, lounging casually in the bed, making no move to cover himself in any way. Buffy scrambled about the underground portion of the crypt, looking for her clothes. Her pants were hanging on the ladder that lead to the lower floor.

Buffy gave up hope of finding her own shirt, having a vague memory of it being ripped apart in the ardour of the night before and grabbed one of Spike's old shirts and slid it on. She found her left shoe and hopped about, trying to get it on and find the other shoe without looking in the general direction of Spike at all.

"Shoe, shoe... I need my shoe!" Buffy rambled, as though saying the words out loud could summon her shoes. Although, this being Sunnydale that was far too possible a prospect for comfort.

"What's your hurry, love?" Spike asked. Buffy braved a glance at the vampire, who was still painfully naked, and glared at him.

"This never should have happened. It was the spell."

"Bollocks!" he scoffed. "That was you and me, Slayer. Spell had nothing to do with it. That was just us, Slayer."

"You know what? You're right, Spike." Buffy almost smiled at the stunned expression on his ironically angelic face. "I had an itch. You scratched it. You're just... convenient."

"You're lying" he stated, not sounding at all sure, his face carefully schooled to neutrality. "You felt something last night. I know you did."

"Yeah, loathing. Still, anything will do in a pinch to substitute for love, won't it Spike?" The vampire flinched. Buffy tried to feel some sort of satisfaction from the look of utter pain on the vampire's face. She should feel something other than this sick ache. Spike looked at her, his emotions in his eyes. Buffy just looked away, finally spotting her other shoe. When she bent to put it on, Spike stood.

The Slayer turned, standing, when she felt the vampire right behind her. Spike smirked evilly. "I knew." At Buffy's look, he elaborated. "I knew the only thing better than killing a slayer would be fu-" the punch across the jaw was pure instinct for Buffy. What was not normal was the guilt she felt when she saw the vampire fall backwards. She scrabbled up the ladder and ran.

She burst out of the crypt into the crisp morning sun, her pace slackening slightly when she realised that Spike could not follow her. That did not just happen. Well, it did, but it shouldn't have and wouldn't again. No matter how hot the sex was- _No! No hot sex with Spike! Icky Spike, not sex-god Spike. Nice thoughts about Spike lead to badness and pain. Nice thoughts about vampires equals badness. Much badness._

* * *

Dawn was freaking out. Her sister hadn't come home last night, or called or anything. And she was looking like a man as well. Normally Dawn didn't worry about Buffy, after all she was the Slayer, but Buffy usually had Spike watching her back and after yesterday at the mall, there was no chance Buffy would be anywhere near Spike last night and demons could get the best of her at any time.

"Would you like some pancakes, dear?" Joyce asked as she poured the batter in the pan. Dawn stared at her mother's calm demeanour in shock, until her stomach rumbling got her attention.

"Um, yeah." A horrible, horrible thought occurred to her. "Should we call Xander and the others? I mean, what if she's in a ditch somewhere? You're always warning us about the ditches. Ditches are bad places." Dawn rambled, her voice staying relatively level until the end, when her worry began to creep through.

"I hardly think we need to call any of the others. She's probably just staying at Rupert's or something and forgot to call." Joyce smiled reassuringly at her daughter, dropping the pancakes in front of her. Dawn continued to look worried, even while demolishing the food in record time. "Look, if it makes you feel better, sweety, if Buffy doesn't call or come home in half and hour then I'll call Rupert, okay? It's only eight o'clock. We should give them a little time before waking them up."

Dawn smiled gratefully, knowing she was probably being more emotional because of the change that had recently occurred. Finishing off the last of the juice in her glass, Dawn notices a faint banging noise coming from upstairs. Rising, Dawn looked at her mother, obviously oblivious to the potential danger.

The young girl decided that, seeing as she currently had a boy's body, she was in the best position to go see what the noise was and deal with potential intruders. She slipped up the stairs, walking close to the wall so as not to make them creak. As she reached the hallway, she heard a dull thud, like a heavy shoe hitting the floor, coming from Buffy's room. She crept over to the door and opened it a crack, peering into the gloom.

"Buffy?!" Dawn asked incredulously. Her sister had fallen in the window, and was now on her back on the floor. One of her shoes lay at the door, near Dawn's feet, and the other was still on Buffy's foot and was stuck on the outside of the window, which seemed to have fallen shut and gotten stuck, wedging the Slayer's foot.

"Um, hi Dawnie." Buffy's expression is contrite, matching the half hearted little wave she offered her sister. "Can you help me with this?"

"Where have you been?" the youngest Summers asked, hands on hips, not moving from her place in the doorway. "And why are you coming in the window?"

"Umm, long story. There was this, uh... demon. Big, big demon. With lots of teeth. And... with the fighting, and, uh... then there was, um...uh... It doesn't matter" Buffy finished sheepishly, when unable to come up with an explanation that didn't involve Spike. Dawn looked at Buffy, confused.

"Is that Spike's shirt?"

* * *

**A/N: **_I don't often do this, mid-chapter messages. First time ever, actually. I'm going to skip past the two weeks that the Scoobies spend as the opposite gender, and if you really want to know what happened in the period remember to mention in a review. As it is, I'll mention everything that needs to be known as I go along._ _I just want this story to go to a certain place and this isn't it._

* * *

Ethan Rayne, wizard of some renown and devout child of Chaos, was surprised as hell when his head was slammed into the bar. He was pulled to his feet and spun around. He looked at his assailants, a grisly bunch. A very pissed off guy was holding him, his dark roots beginning to show through a blond dye; a teenage boy was glaring at him and looking uncomfortable standing behind two guys, a redhead and a brunet, who were holding hands and looking uneasily angry.

Then there was the platinum blonde woman. Tight leather pants stretched over very shapely legs and an arse that you could crack a walnut on, hard stomach revealed by the red halter top and a leather duster that gave her an air of mystery. Sure, she looked even more pissed than the guy holding Ethan, but she was still hot enough to warrant his 'come hither' look.

"I know what you did" the guy holding Ethan growled, and Ethan had to roll his eyes. Didn't this stupid prat realise that Ethan Rayne was a man for hire, willing to do whatever the client was willing to pay for? This could be from any number of things. Still, the British man knew well enough not to volunteer incriminating evidence.

"That's just wonderful" he drawled, already bored. Clearly this guy was going to do whatever he wanted.

"You're going to fix it" the guy holding Ethan's collar snarled, obviously annoyed at Ethan's lack of knowledge about the incident in question.

"I'll be glad to, if your friend over there is willing to do something for me" Ethan replied, nodding his head towards the blonde. It probably wouldn't work, but a guy had to take what he could get. The guy holding him threw a speculative glance at the blonde, who noticed and started glaring at him instead.

"...No, we can't do that." the guy declared, sounding faintly regretful. "You'll fix it or I'll let _her_ spend time alone with you" Ethan turned to look at the blonde, whose face shifted, her forehead becoming ridged, fangs and gold eyes gleaming faintly in the Los Angeles pub. Great, a vampire. All the hot ones were dead.

"And just what am I fixing, mate?" Ethan asked, getting a little bit curious as to what he had done to a vampiress and a bunch of guys. He didn't remember doing anything of the sort.

"You'll turn me back into a man, you bloody pillock!" the platinum blonde roared, drawing the attention of everyone in the bar. When the guy holding Ethan lifted him off the ground, he finally put two and two together.

"Slayer?"

* * *

William looked around the Magic Box, noting that everyone except Spike looked as uncomfortable as he did. They all had put on clothes to anticipate the change, and he was sure they'd be happier after the change, but wearing his male clothes was uncomfortable. They were too tight along his heaps and breasts, and that thought alone made him shudder.

He also noted he wasn't the only one anxious about the upcoming change. Dawn was looking uncomfortable, Buffy and Spike were still not talking to each other, and no one but them knew why they had fallen out. Willow and Tara were quiet and tense, and Anya was soothing a strangely nervous Xander.

"Don't worry, Xander. It can't be as bad as-"

"Ahn! You promised to never, _ever_ bring that up!" Xander squealed, dark eyes wide. Everyone in the room except Spike turned to look at the oblivious couple curiously.

"One minute to showtime." Spike stated quietly, glaring at the Slayer for reasons of his own. Everyone was suddenly intensely sombre, and they all watched the clock and waited intently for the clock to strike nine o'clock. The second hand was closing.

Three.

Two.

One.

Bright light engulfed the room and all it's occupants felt an odd displacement before blacking out completely.

* * *

Three young men, often called nerds or geeks in their adolescence, sat around a card table, drinking soda and playing a little D&D. An idea occurred to the Dungeon Master.

"So ... you guys wanna team up and take over Sunnydale?" The two players look to one another, contemplating this. They come to a conclusion and answer simultaneously.

"Okay"

* * *

**A/N:** _I had to bring the Trio in. They rule. That chapter was broken up, I'll admit it, but if you want to see what happened in the weeks remember to mention it in review. I'll be continuing this fic, but updates may be further apart for a week, maybe two. Got a few other ideas, and one of my current open fics is going on hiatus. Not this one. Relax, take a moment to review. Please?_


	17. The calm before the storm? Not really th...

**A/N:**_ Here it is, the long awaited - not really - update for my most popular fic. I had to force this chapter out so I'm not sure of it's value, but I want to stay as close to the dates in my LiveJournal as possible, early when I can. The link can be found in my profile. Thanks for everyone who shows an interest in my work. It's honestly for you that I try to stay on schedule.  
_**Disclaimer:**_ I have a really chronic head cold right now. My sinus is so blocked I can't taste my own phlegm, of which there is much. Any suckiness of this chapter is due to that. It's my story and I'm sticking to it._

_**Last time, on Crushed:** We had a very naughty moment when Buffy woke up, when we all found out that she and Spike had made the Beast of Two Backs, while in bodies of the opposite gender, no less. ...Yay? Then we magically blurred two weeks, I'm all dizzy now. Next! Ethan Rayne, the perpetrator of the heinous body switching magic spell, was beaten into submission. Yay violence! Poor Ethan! Finally, the Trio, consisting of the three arch-nemeses of the Slayer, was formed. "We're like, evil supervillians. Mwahahahaha."_

* * *

**The calm before the storm? Not really that calm**

Buffy opened her eyes slowly, getting used to the stale light in the room, and ran her small - _small! - _hands down her body. Curves, curious mix of soft flesh and hard muscle, fitting her regular clothes. She was back in her body. Which was a relief. It's not like she wanted the other body. Oh sure, it had required less maintenance, but less shopping. Any vestiges of longing for the simpler, masculine body vanished with that particular revelation.

The Slayer looked over to where her friends had been waiting for the spell to be reversed and took a quick inventory. One carpenter, male. One ex-demon, female. One bratty sister, female. One witchy best friend, female. One lover of witchy best friend, female. One accidental time traveller, male. One peroxide blond vampire, male, and leaving despite the fact it's nine o'clock in the morning.

Shrugging off any concern for the annoying 'creature of the night', -because there wasn't any, not really- she tottered over to her friends, assuring herself they were okay. They were all fine and they all seemed pleased and relieved to be back in their bodies, except for William, who had an odd expression on his face.

"Does anybody else feel as thought their skin is a size too small?" William asked suddenly, looking vaguely disappointed when everyone else answered in the negative. "Ah. My shirt is probably just a size too small." The Englishman half shrugged one shoulder, and his face assumed an apologetic expression.

"Well, this body is more conducive to getting money." Anya declared happily, and after a short pause added, "And orgasms." Everyone in the group threw her a slightly horrified look, and then Dawn spoke up.

"I win. It took less than two minutes but more than one." she said with a grin, as everyone groaned and Anya looked around confused. "Pay up, everyone" the teen added, holding out her hand, watching with glee as everyone in the room forked out the money.

"There was an opportunity to make money off of me?" Anya asked incredulously. Xander looked the most guilty, but they all look contrite.

"Ahn-" Xander tried to placate his fiancé.

"And I missed out on it?"

* * *

"Is Dawn home?" Janice asked Joyce with a pleasant smile. Joyce smiled warmly at the girl, her daughter's best friend, before stepping out of the doorway and turning to get Dawn. Janice followed her into the house, shutting the door behind her, and Joyce relaxed slightly. You didn't spend five years in Sunnydale with the Vampire Slayer for a daughter without learning how to be social without risking breaching vampire etiquette.

"Have a seat, dear. I'll go get her" Joyce said as she walked up the steps. Rolling her eyes at the punk music drifting from Dawn's room, she had spent a little too much time with Spike in the last two weeks, Joyce opened the door a crack. "Janice is here to see you, sweetheart."

The door swung open completely and Dawn stood there for a moment, an anticipatory expression making the savage light in her eyes seem a little scary. She tore off down the hall and thundered down the stairs while Joyce followed at a more sedate pace, heading into the kitchen to make some hot chocolates.

"Hi, Janice!" Dawn's voice, far too bright to be genuine, drifted through the otherwise empty house. Joyce shook her head softly, abandoning the cocoa. When Dawn was in this kind of mood...

* * *

Dawn looked at her 'best friend', the effort being used to keep the faux pleasant expression on her face completely worth it for the look that would be on the skanky ho-bag's face when she finally let loose.

"Hey, Dawn. How was your trip?" Janice asked casually, completely at ease with what she had tried to do. The thought made Dawn's blood boil, and all of a sudden the thought of taking Spike up on his offer was much, _much_ more tempting.

"Oh, it was fine. I hear you met Dan." Dawn stated in an open tone, so sickeningly sweet that the words cloyed in her mouth. The other girl was still oblivious.

"Yeah, he seemed nice enough."

"Nice enough for you to try and sleep with him!" Dawn said as she finally snapped, eyes blazing, pushed beyond her mere mortal restraint. She watched the other girl with grudging respect. The amount of shock and surprise on her face was perfect, and if Dawn didn't have personal, _way_ personal evidence she would have believed her 'friend'.

"Wh-what are you talking about?" Janice asked, the quaver in her voice flawless. God, Dawn hated the bitch! She managed to almost convince Dawn, who knew, _knew_ that she'd done it.

"You tried to have sex with m- my cousin!" Dawn nearly yelled, her voice shrill with panic and rage. She'd nearly said something completely embarrassing.

"Who said that?!" Janice asked, her incredulous outrage absolutely perfect for the wrongly accused. No wonder this girl got away with whatever she was planning at any given time.

"I- he did!"

"Then he's lying." There were tears in the liar's eyes now. "I wouldn't do that to you, Dawn!" Dawn's eyes narrowed sharply.

"Get the hell out of my house"

* * *

William sat at the table in the Magic Box, across from Willow and Tara. He had spent the afternoon with them, as well as Anya and Xander, trying to forget or ignore the strange tightness he had been feeling since being changed back. It had gotten progressively worse until about an hour ago, when it had mostly abated except for a slight tingling.

He remembered with a smile seeing Anya and Xander make poor excuses before running off to be together. He still blushed slightly at the memory. Not even two weeks of prolonged Anya exposure and training in being a woman could completely eradicate the twenty five years of traditional British training before that.

Still, it had helped him become a little less clueless about the people in his life. He had spent the past two hours watching Willow and Tara, keeping an eye out for any sign that they wanted some time alone, but they had been simply holding hands and levitating books and pencils, giggling every now and again.

"It's such a relief to be able to do spells even this simple without having things blow up and change colour randomly" Willow stated in a satisfied tone after a particularly spectacular display involving two pencils and a strange glowing rock. At William's puzzled, questioning glance, the pair just blushed.

"Long story" Tara said softly, looking everywhere but at Willow or William. William just nodded, accepting that certain experiences during those weeks were a very private matter. William joined the witches in the diversion search.

"Is there a telly here?" William asked after the silence and awkwardness got to be a bit much for him. The two Wicca looked at each other blankly for a minute.

"I don't think so. Anya doesn't watch TV and I'm not even sure if Giles still owns one." Willow explained.

"Oh, Rupert has a telly. We watch Passions on it every now and again, when our schedules match." Completely oblivious to the giggles of the girls, William rose. "I think there was one in his office here, a small one."

As he crossed the shop to the small, closet-like office he gasped as the tingling intensified sharply, turning from being brushed with pine needles to be jabbed with burning cold shards of steel. The feeling faded almost as quickly as it came, so he brushed it off and continued to the office.

He had made it to within three feet before the painful, burning, freezing sensation hit him again. He collapsed to the ground, his skin feeling like it was imploding. He let out a sharp gasping sigh before passing out, bright light enveloping him again.

His last sight was Willow and Tara looking at him in horror.

* * *

Spike kicked the door to Willy's open and glared around at the startled patrons, his rain slicked curls damp against his forehead. He had a few debts to settle. Spying the demon he was after, Spike pulled the small battle axe out from under his duster and strode to the Huvarki demon.

"You an' your mates think that it's okay to put one over on a lady, do you?" he asked stiffly, eyes blazing. Spike waited for recognition to appear in the creatures oily, pig-like eyes. He was disappointed. With a frustrated growl, Spike swung, watching as the axe left a silver arc in the air before it collided with the main section of the head, spraying yellow ichor on the wall.

There was a moment of hushed murmuring before another demon, one Spike didn't recognise, took offence to the seemingly unprovoked attack. Of course, Spike wasn't going to explain to a large number of the more socialite demons in Sunnydale that he had been the girl slighted. Besides, it was always more fun to go on a violent killing spree than explain himself.

A swift backhand with the axe took the outstretched tentacle of the unnamed demon, blood spurting violently from the single tentacle being severed, the sweaty, scabbed skin of the demon quivering in pain. The squishy demon in front of him stood there for a moment, shaking promisingly, before collapsing suddenly. Spike dropped the little axe in disgust. Demons these days had no standards.

There was a subtle shift in the mood of the room when Spike dropped the axe. Spike had first created a reputation for violence by torturing victims with railroad spikes, then he got a rep for killing Slayers. The chip happened, and he earned a third rep; killing demons. He was more infamous than the Slayer, because at least she was supposed to do it. And he'd been gone for two whole weeks, and now here he was, dropping his weapon after a short fight with two weak demons. There were a lot of Sunnydale's residents who carried a grudge against the blond vampire.

It was a fledgling vampire that reached him first. It exploded into a thick cloud of dust as the larger battle axe appeared from the depths of Spike's duster. Using the momentum of his last swing, and not willing to give up on a brawl this promising, Spike followed through and clove a muscular, horned demon in two.

All hell broke loose. With various roars, screams and one or two squeaks that the vampire was unable to explain, every single patron in the Alibi Room burst into violent action at once. Spike danced amongst the savage flailing, a dark coated dervish of death, cutting limbs, drawing blood, wreaking havoc mindlessly; no thoughts except the thrill of the fight.

The vampire laughed aloud with glee as he cut a swathe to the door, and he was just about to go back into what had turned into a general brawl when a small fist gripped his collar and dragged him out of the absolutely trashed bar and into the rain. A sharp tug of superhuman strength and Spike found himself looking at an incredibly brassed off Slayer.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she hissed at him, her green eyes full of rage. Spike stiffened under the stare.

"None of your bloody business, is it? 'This is nothing Spike. We're nothing'" he parroted her earlier words back to her in a sarcastic voice. He must have imagined the flinch, because nothing he ever said like that hurt the Slayer. Not the high and mighty Buffy. Slowly the thrill of the mindless violence drained from the vampire, and all of a sudden he hurt. A lot, and in a lot of places. He sank to the rain soaked ground.

"You're hurt" Buffy's tone was shocked, almost curious. Disbelieving. That was the word. As if she couldn't imagine Spike getting hurt. Bloody hell, he barely could imagine anything hurting more than her rejection of his love and this was nowhere near half as bad. For some reason though, he was having trouble moving just now. He blinked as the Slayer's warm little hands gripped him under his shoulders.

"Piss off, Slayer. I can look after myself" he slurred, blinking rapidly. It shouldn't be that hard to keep his eyes open. The Slayer ignored him, like she always did, and hefted him up onto her shoulder. This gave Spike a view of his body, and he was shocked. Through the sheeting rain he could see his well muscled body covered in welts and scratches, and there was an odd puncture wound in his thigh.

As the Slayer carried him through the street, he had a thought. Vampires don't get hot on their own, especially not in the icy rain pelting down right now. It was then that Spike considered that something might be wrong.

* * *

"So, what do we do next?" Jonathon Levinson asked his compatriots of crime. "I mean, we robbed the bank so we've got the funds." Warren Mears, self proclaimed leader of the Trio pointed to the white board.

"We've got to finish the list, Sparky. That's what we wrote it for." The white board listed all their hopes, dreams, ambitions and plans for their rise to crime lords of Sunnydale.

Rob bank  
Make freeze ray  
Make invisible ray  
Make sexbot  
Conquer Sunnydale  
Get the limited edition Star Wars DVD collection  
Shrink ray  
Control the weather  
Miniaturize Fort Knox  
Conjure fake I.D's  
The Gorilla Thing  
Workable prototype jetpacks

"O- okay, but what do we do next?" Andrew Wells asked.

"I think we should make the sexbot" Warren declared. Andrew stared at him, head tilted. Jonathon asked the important question.

"Who are we going to make it look like?"

"I vote Christina Ricci" Andrew called out loudly, withdrawing slightly when the other two glared at him.

"I'm not making a Christina Ricci-bot" Warren declared decisively.

"Oh, sure. Why are we even here? Just because you're the robot pimp-daddy you get to make all the decisions?" Andrew asked rhetorically.

"Oh, shut up and go train some devil dogs to kill everyone at prom." Warren shot back.

"I was at that prom!" Jonathon declared, distressed. "What was up with that, you big spaz?"

"Okay, how many times are we going to discuss this?" Andrew asked. "That wasn't me, Jerk-athon. That was my lame-o brother Tucker."

"No, seriously?"

"Hello! Screen-wipe, new scene. I had nothing to do with the devil dogs." Andrew paused, his exasperation clear. "I trained flying demon monkeys to attack the school play. School play, dude!" The others giggled.

"Yeah, that was pretty cool."

"Remember how everyone was like, 'Run, Juliet!'?"

The Trio trailed into silence, their memories of past victories switching to memories of present ones as they over looked at the stacks of stolen money.

"Is this the life or what?" Andrew asked in a satisfied tone.  
  
"Mm." Warren agreed softly, not wanting to ruin the mood.  
  
"I mean, here we got all the stuff we ever wanted... and we didn't even have to..."  
  
"Earn it?" Warren asked with a grin.  
  
"Exactamundo." Andrew said with a smug nod.  
  
"It's true, my friends." Jonathon declared. "The way I see it ... life is like an interstellar journey. Some people go into hypersleep and travel at sub-light speeds... ...only to get where they're going after years of struggle, toil and hard, hard work. We, on the other hand ... "  
  
"Blast through the space-time continuum in a wormhole?" Andrew cut in excitedly.  
  
"Gentlemen ... crime is our wormhole." Jonathon's affirmation was met with a smile, before Andrew blinked.  
  
"But ..." he began, "everyone knows... if the width of a wormhole cavity is a whole number of wavelengths, plus a fraction of that wavelength? The coinciding particle activity collapses the infrastructure"  
  
"Dude." Warren cut him off. "Don't be a geek." The Trio contemplated the white board for a minute.

"You know, I'm worried about the Slayer. What if that Mm'Fashnik demon rats us out?" Jonathon asked. Warren raised a single finger, silencing his companions.

"That's perfect. We'll make a Buffybot. The Slayer's hot." The other members of the Trio nodded at this evidence of Warren's sagely wisdom.

"Yeah, she'll be our willing little sex bunny!" Andrew declared, and all three members of the Trio beamed at one another.

* * *

**A/N:**_ I had to include all that classic Trio dialogue. "School play, dude!". Glorious -insert sinister laughter-. And come on, who out there thought that I would just abandon the Buffybot? She's far too fantastic to just delete. And to be honest, the second half of this chapter was written sans headache, thanks to the power of aspirin. Remember, review, let me know what you think. It keeps me motivated. Check out my LiveJournal, link in my profile, to see scheduled release dates._


	18. The bad stuff always happens all at once

**A/N:**_ To be honest, I am incredibly disappointed by the response to the last chapter. I got a handful of reviews and it bummed me out a little. That's why this is so much later than it was going to be. Now, as I promised, I'm going to go to the finish but I have a lot of other fics I could work on, so it's reader response that inspires me to write new chapters. Still, thanks to the few people who did review this little story. Also, I have apparently squicked one of my readers, but it was not made clear what was so squicky. I'm happy to listen to constructive criticism, but "Oh my god that was so sick" doesn't help when I don't know what you're on about...  
_**Disclaimer:**_ I feel really, really tired, and I'm not sure why. It's midnight and all, but I'm usually up until two in the morning. Maybe I have yet another flu. Give me sympathy reviews._

_

* * *

_

**The bad stuff always happens all at once**

"Hey guys," Buffy called out as she opened the door to the Magic Box. "I think something's wrong with Spike. He got in a big fight at Willy's, and he was okay for a little while after then he just collapsed." Buffy looked around the shop, puzzled. It wasn't like Anya to leave the shop untended, and it would have to be a severe emergency or a mortal wound that left the shop open with no-one in it.

Hearing a sound from the back of the Magic Box, and deducing that it was either one of her friends or some sort of thief, Buffy ambled to the training room door. After all, the thief would have to be pretty big to intimidate the Slayer who had defeated a hell god.

"Hello?" Buffy called out loudly. She felt relieved when she heard Willow's unsteady response. Until she actually realised what that response was.

"Buffy, something's wrong with William." The Slayer charged into the room to see a groaning, thrashing William that was glowing dimly on the floor, surrounded on both sides by a witch. Tara had her eyes closed, and she was muttering under her breath while she clasped Willow's hands over William's chest.

As Buffy watched, blue light emanated from the witches hands, encasing the glowing man on the floor. Slowly, his body calmed and the glowing light melded with the blue, creating an opaque covering. The two lovers sagged from exertion.

"What happened? Is he okay?" Buffy asked, concerned.

"He should be okay for a while," Willow informed her friend. "We don't know what happened. One minute, he's fine and then next he's collapsing."

"What did you guys do to him?"  
  
"We sort of took him out of time," Tara informed Buffy quietly. "Only, not completely out of time. It's complicated. It's a bit like freezing water, only with magic instead of water." Buffy blinked at the almost uncharacteristically long explanation from the blonde, before realising something odd.

"Roughly how long did this start?" she asked, quickly counting back to when Spike had collapsed.

"About forty minutes ago, why?" Buffy's eyes widened at Willow's guestimate.

"Spike collapsed around about forty minutes ago!"  
  
"Do you think that they might be related?" Tara asked, chewing on her bottom lip. Buffy turned and began to stalk out the front door.

"I'm going to find out."

* * *

Spike jerked awake when he hit the floor. He looked around blearily only to find that he wasn't in his crypt. He was in the Magic Box, with a very pissed off Slayer staring- no, make that glaring at him. The vampire rose to his feet unsteadily.

"What?" he asked finally, unable to withstand the intense look the Slayer was throwing his way.

"What's wrong with you?" Buffy asked him, looking at him with distaste. Spike drew himself up, and threw a withering look at the Slayer.

"Your concern is just touching, Slayer. I'm a vampire. If we're not dust, we're fine." Spike gave the Slayer one last look, one that indicated how much of an idiot he thought her, and made to push past her to the door. The Slayer gripped his arm tightly.

"You've been unconscious for an hour" Buffy informed him in a low, rough voice. Spike blinked. It couldn't have been that long, surely. He'd only just closed his eyes for a minute after that fantastic brawl at Willy's. Although, his head was feeling a bit fuzzy...

"I'm perfectly bloody fine" he snarled when he saw the blank look on the Slayer's face. So even pretending to care about him was that much trouble? He wrenched his arm out of the Slayer's grip and took a few steps, only to have her grasp the back of his duster and haul him off to the training room. "Oi!"

"You're not going anywhere until Willow is sure that nothing you did is effecting William" Buffy told the vampire in a resigned voice. Spike grew more indignant.

"Oh, so it's automatically my fault, is it?" Spike asked, insulted.

"Yes!" Buffy said in an incredulous tone, as though she couldn't believe that he'd think any differently.

"Of course. If anything happens to that poofter, it must be my fault. Especially since it was old Spike who brought him here, right?" the vampire asked vindictively, smirking at the look of rage on the diminutive Slayer's face. She reacted to her anger in the standard way, punching Spike as hard as she could on the nose, before dragging him into the training room.

Spike dropped on the floor and looked at the Slayer surlily. His head felt like it was packed with cotton-wool and she wasn't helping, throwing him around like that. So intent was he on his internal monologue/complaining, he didn't even notice either of the witches until Tara spoke.

"The two have nothing to do with one another" she asserted. Buffy looked at Spike in confusion, before returning her gaze to an odd, pulsing blue... something on the floor.

"Then what's wrong with him?" Buffy asked, her puzzled tone revealing the depth of her confusion.

"Hey!" Spike objected, only to be ignored by the three women.

"It must have been the reversal spell Ethan Rayne cast," Willow decreed, and Spike realised that they must have been talking about his poncy human self. Spike hadn't been feeling any adverse effects, until he just woke up all fuzzy of course.

"We think he did a complete magic reversal. It takes more power to do, but it is a lot easier if you have the power." Tara added, looking at the blue stuff on the floor. That must be William, was Spike's belated realisation.

"So, why did he react that way?" Buffy asked, obviously concerned. Of bloody course. Spike, the vamp who got tortured by a hell god for her, is unconscious for an hour and he barely gets a mention, even after what they went thro- no, especially because of what they went through. That was just like the bloody Slayer...

"William's only here because of a spell. When Ethan cast the remove-all spell, he damaged the spell that keeps William here, in this time. That's why he was complaining of feeling funny. The spell was breaking apart."

The four conscious people in the room looked at the casing that protected William. Spike watched in mildly hopeful glee. His reputation had been horribly tarnished by demons seeing the wanker doing stupid things, like go shopping with the nibblet. It was annoying to have to kill twice as many demons just to keep his reputation as a bad-ass alive. The girls watched in worried silence.

"Can you guys fix it?" Buffy asked reluctantly, afraid of the answer. Willow hesitated.

"Yes and no. We can rebuild the spell that keeps him here and fix it so this doesn't happen again, not too hard. Only, we're not sure how much of him was changed or even damaged by the spell's break-down. And we can't fix anything like that." The witch's sorrow was painfully obvious. Spike rolled his eyes.

"See what you can do" Buffy said, throwing a worried glance at the not-visible William. Spike stood, and felt his head throb lightly. That shouldn't be happening.

"Hey, ducks?" Spike called to Tara, who spun nervously at the sound.

"M-me?"

"Yeah. Could you take a look-see, make sure that there's nobody trying to put a bit of mojo on me?" He asked, sauntering over to the only natural blonde out of three in the room. The girl looked at Spike tremulously, before nodding gently. She put a hand on his chest and closed her eyes for a short while, before asking him to turn around.

As she put her hand on Spike's back, he noticed the Slayer looking at him with an awkward expression on her pretty face, almost a cross between disgust and horror. That pissed Spike off a lot. Now the Slayer didn't want him getting help from her friends? Well, she could go get fu-  
  
"Spike, calm down" Tara murmured, her hand still on his back. "This is hard enough without your emotions going crazy on me."

"Sorry pet" Spike mumbled, looking away from the Slayer to try and mellow himself a little for Tara's sake. The little witch had been nothing but decent to him. She was a good sort. He would give her a go if she weren't gay.

"No, everything seems to be fine. Nothing wrong with you, magically speaking." Tara told him as she released him. Spike shrugged a little.

"You sure, pet?" When she nodded, Spike looked perplexed. At Tara's questioning look, Spike explained. "I've got a real fuzzy head. Have had since I woke up. It's not normal, and aside from when the Slayer got a little punch happy," a glare for said Slayer, "I haven't taken a hit to the head for a good six, seven days. Plus, my stomach's feeling a little queasy now."

"It sounds like you've got a cold" Buffy told him. Spike rolled his eyes.

"I'm a vampire, Slayer. We don't get sick." Spike said in a clearly mocking tone and with a scathing glance at the Slayer. Anything more, and his anger might give way to lust and he really didn't need that anymore. The Slayer had made her opinion on the matter perfectly clear.

The pair were interrupted by the blue magical coating pulsing brighter than ever before fading into nothing, revealing William underneath. He looked relatively unhurt, but he did look... younger.

"Bloody hell," Spike moaned. "Are you trying to tell me, Red, that all you've done is give the poncy bugger access to the fountain of youth?" The vampire was ignored by all three women, who were worriedly hovering around William, whose eyes flickered open suddenly. He frowned as Willow leaned over him to check his pupil dilation.

"Willow?" he asked pathetically. The red-head nodded enthusiastically.

"Are you okay?"

"I- I think so." William said as he propped himself up on his elbows weakly, before the effort made him sink back to the floor with a low groan. His eyes seemed to suddenly get very heavy lidded, and as they slowly sunk, he asked, "Who am I?"

The other four people in the room stared with open mouths at the now asleep boy on the floor, before Spike started to laugh sardonically. It really was too cliché.

* * *

"I'm telling you, Connery was the best Bond!" Warren declared emphatically, waving his arms for dramatic effect.

"Who remembers Connery? I mean, Roger Moore was smooth." Jonathon retorted scornfully as the Trio entered their evil lair.  
  
"You're insane. You're short, and you're insane." Warren said, shaking his head at his diminutive friend. Jonathon frowned deeply.

"I like Timothy Dalton," Andrew declared, wanting to fit in. Both Warren and Jonathon stared at him like he was retarded, before Warren cuffed Andrew as hard as he could on the side of the head. "Hey!"

"What's wrong with you?" Warren asked rhetorically as he sat in the big swivel chair. Andrew walked over to the assortment of collectables and Star Trek memorabilia and sulked.

"Hey, umm, guys? Where's the Buffybot?" Jonathon's voice echoed from the privacy booth of their lair, a.k.a. the laundry. Warren frowned.

"What do you mean, where is she? She should be there."

"Well, she's gone." Jonathon said as he came out. "You don't think your mom got her did you?"

"What?" Warren asked abruptly. "No. Mom knows not to come into our lair."

"Hey, guys?" Andrew called out from the laundry. "Was this window always open?" The other two members of the Trio looked at each other in realisation.

"It's your fault!" Warren decreed suddenly, looking pointedly at Jonathon. "You're the one who left the window open."

"It's your fault the window was open! If you hadn't been complaining every five minutes that there's no fresh air down here, I wouldn't have opened it!"

"Aha! So you admit it! You opened the window!"

"Uhh, guys?" Andrew's voice cut into their argument unexpectedly. "There's a robot out in Sunnydale at night that thinks it's the Slayer. I think we have bigger problems than who let it out." There was a pause.

"That's your fault, you mental!" Jonathon screeched at Warren, who managed to look both angry and innocent at the same time in a strangely unsettling way.

"How is it my fault? You guys wanted the bot just as much as me!"

"Does this ring a bell? "No, it'll be better if we put in all the knowledge we can about the Slayer. Make it more realistic. It's sexier that way." Sound familiar at all?"

"Uhh, dude? That was Andrew, not me..." Warren and Jonathon turned towards Andrew, only to see him bolting up the stairs.

"Come back here you mutant!"

* * *

**A/N:**_ I couldn't leave the Trio out of this, and hopefully I manage to tie in the next few chapters well enough to pull of the incredibly funny (in my head, at least) scenes that come next chapter. I seem to be very good at the build up, not so much with the delivery these days. Still, review, let me know you care. I had to force this reasonably lengthy chapter out past writer's block over four hours. It usually takes me three at most. Plus, I'm all sleepy now. SO REVIEW!_


	19. Hi! I’m Buffy

**A/N:**_ Inspiration strikes and us under appreciated authors are forced to write work that is not very vocally praised. Still, I am incredibly grateful to those who review, your opinions go some way to shaping my work. Not so much here, in this fic it has mainly resulted in my Author's Notes but still, it lets me know you care._

**Disclaimer:**_ Sticks and stones may break my bones, but legal actions will never find me ;P_

* * *

**Hi! I'm Buffy**

William woke to find himself in a warm bed. It was so warm that he really didn't want to get up, but he was nothing if not an obedient boy and he knew that you had to get up when you woke up. He couldn't remember where, or why, but he was very certain about that. He regretfully pushed the covers back and slid out of bed.

He squinted around the room. It seemed a bit... feminine. He was reasonably sure that the room was familiar to him, but he didn't remember how. It was like there were massive gaps in his memory. Some things he knew with perfect clarity, and others simply didn't exist. So maybe this room was his, and he simply couldn't remember. Although... William was marginally sure he wouldn't pick such an effeminate décor, but seeing as how he couldn't remember differently, he might have.

Deciding against going through the closet and drawers, William exited the room and head downstairs. He stretched as he plodded down the steps, scratching his shoulder absently. He had that lethargic feeling you got when you'd slept so much you got tired again. That thought didn't quite seem right to William, but he was pretty much accepting everything his mind threw at him until it was proven otherwise.

He manoeuvred on auto-pilot, not really thinking about where he was going, until he found himself in the kitchen. He ambled to the bench and grabbed an apple out of the fruit basket on the end. Taking a bite out of the apple, he nearly had a heart attack when he sat in the stool and turned to see Dawn standing in the doorway, gaping at him.

"Dawn, you scared the life out of me" William assured her after his pulse and ceased racing. Dawn continued to stare at him, open-mouthed. "Uh, Dawn? That is your name, right?"

"Huh?" Dawn grunted as she came out of her stupor. "Oh, yeah. Hey! You remember!"

"Is there some reason I shouldn't remember that you're Dawn?" William asked bemused. He didn't remember Dawn being this flighty, but considering he couldn't actually recall much about her other than her name and the fact that he had looked at her fondly before... whatever caused him to lose so much of his memory.

"Oh, Buffy said you had amnesia and had forgotten almost everything." Dawn said as she surreptitiously wiped the drool from her mouth. Her eyes were still riveted to William, but he took another bite of his apple, lost in thought.

"Who's Buffy?" he asked after some thought. He had a vague idea of a small blonde, but little more beyond that. For the first time in the whole conversation, Dawn looked up at his face.

"Buffy's my sister, the Slayer. So you really did forget, huh?" William nodded his agreement, despite the fact it was probably unnecessary. "It was her room you woke up in. She put you there late last night."

William nodded slowly. He could remember certain things about a Slayer, vampires, magic, and he knew they were real. Still, he couldn't remember the Slayer specifically. Still, his familiarity with the room and the new knowledge that he was there with Buffy's permission, when added with the odd sense of embarrassment he felt whenever he thought about being in that room, the conclusion was obvious. He and Buffy were... close.

"Are we married?" he asked after a time. It seemed a reasonable question to his mind. William was fairly sure he was an honourable sort of fellow. It really was awfully mean of Dawn to just laugh like that. Eventually, she snorted out a negative answer. William was slightly shocked. He had been so sure he wouldn't do anything like that. Still, Dawn was in a better position to know things like that than him at this point.

As William finished his apple and threw out the core, he decided that he would enlist Dawn to help him remember or relearn some of the things he had forgotten. It was as he was leaving the kitchen on his way to the shower that he realised that, barring her laughing fit and her initial shock at the state of his memory, she had stared at his chest the whole time.

"Dawn?" he asked, pausing at the door and looking at the girl now making her breakfast. "Did I do something... odd this morning?"

"No, why?"

"You've just been staring at me all morning." It must have been William's imagination, for Dawn appeared to be blushing.

"I just don't usually see you of a morning." she choked out after a slight pause. William nodded. If he and Buffy were living in sin, that would probably make sense.

"I thought it might have been because I'm not wearing a shirt." Dawn's eyes came back to meet his and she laughed weakly.

"Silly you."

* * *

Spike cheerily, yet tiredly ambled through the Sunnydale sewer system to get back to his crypt. He'd been very lucky with his game of kitten poker, coming away with five tabbies and a Siamese. Normally he would have done even better with the hands he had been getting, but his woolly head had only gotten worse, and gradually his stomach had started to feel slightly unsettled.

Still, he'd traded his kittens to Willy and paid off his, considerable, bar tab and got himself three nice, shiny bottles of liquor in the bargain. Of course, with his stomach feeling this iffy, he wasn't planning on drinking any of that alcohol until he had a nice comfy chair to lounge in.

Spike entered the lower chamber of his crypt, taking off his duster and tossing it onto his bed, scotch bottles and all, and scrambled up the ladder to the crypt proper. Pulling a container of pigs blood from his mini-fridge before contemplating the difficulties of heating the blood. His head ached and his stomach felt unsettled and the blood would help cure that right up, but on the other hand pigs blood was bloody awful when heated and nearly intolerable when cold.

Shaking his head as the pain throbbed worse, Spike opened the container and quaffed the contents entirely, grimacing as he drained the dregs. Throwing the empty cup into a less visible corner, the vampire collapsed into his chair and closed his eyes.

When he opened them his head still ached, his stomach still swirled, only now it was night. Looking around slowly, he tried to figure out what the bloody hell just happened. He closed his eyes for a moment and hours passed. He was normally a light sleeper as well. It just didn't make sense.

Staggering to his feet, he dragged himself out of his crypt. His head was actively throbbing right now, but he didn't feel as bad as he had before his little impromptu nap. As he trotted through the crisp, night air he decided a spot of violence would clear him right up. He was already feeling somewhat better from just moving.

"What are you doing, Spike?" The vampire spun around, his fist shooting out by reflex before he dropped to his knees in agony as the chip fired sharply. He looked up through a haze of pain, and saw an incredibly brassed off Slayer staring at him.

He was shocked. He hadn't heard her, hadn't smelled her, hadn't known she was there. The Slayer was the one being who never surprised him. He had built his reputation on knowing Slayers. Well, on killing them, but he had to know them to kill them. He'd even fallen in love with this one, and he'd always known where his Dark Princess had been even without the bond that any vamp had to it's sire.

"What do you mean?" he asked intelligently from his place on the grass. It struck Spike as incredibly unlike him as he slowly rose to his feet. Normally, he knew the Slayer was coming from a mile off and he always had a snarky word or thirty lined up just for her. It must be this damned headache.

"Why are you even out? You're so obviously sick." the Slayer's voice rang out almost blankly. Spike snorted. Trust the Slayer to pretend to care for him. If she didn't, she couldn't very well play the martyr anymore, could she?

"Vampires don't get sick" he sneered at her again. When would she get it through her vapid yet adorable head? She just rolled her eyes at him and walked off. After stumbling over two headstones as he tried to trail her, he decided that perhaps she was right. Not about being sick, that was plain ridiculous - what disease would attack him? He was dead - but about him being out. He was clearly not in any condition to be out and about in Sunnydale.

* * *

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Buffybot was having some difficulty. She was the Slayer. She should be out, slaying and protecting the innocent. She simply couldn't spend all her time pleasuring those three Adonis' at the Mears household, no matter how enjoyable and rewarding that experience was.

Of course, her programming was a little incomplete as to _how_ she was to rescue the denizens of Sunnydale. They just didn't want to be rescued. When she had offered to rescue some of the people outside the establishment called the Bronze, they had looked at her oddly and one group of young men had made several lewd suggestions which, while sounding fun, did not seem very conducive to world saving. Her programming said she did that a lot.

Buffybot consulted her programming for options. She had a sister, Dawn Summers. She was fifteen now. She would help Buffybot in her Slaying duties while Buffybot remained a steady role model for her younger sister and be supportive after their mother's recent illness. It was with this resolve that Buffybot head off for Revello Drive.

When she arrived at her home, she found a note on the refrigerator from Dawn. It informed Buffybot of her plans to stay at a friends place. This was very vexing. How was Buffybot going to slay and save the denizens of Sunnydale if her sister did not help her? Still, someone must be in the house or the door would not be unlocked as it were. Heading upstairs, Buffybot heard the trickling sounds that came from when you were in the shower.

Cheery smile in place, she walked to the bathroom.

* * *

William rinsed the shampoo out of his hair. It had been a long day. Dawn had taken him to the Magic Box, a place he had no recollection of, to meet Anya and Xander, people he remembered fairly well. They had been joined by Willow and Tara later in the day, after their classes had finished. Tara he remembered fondly, Willow not so much.

Aside from Giles, who had apparently left that morning on Watcher business - William had disturbing memories of chains whenever he tried to remember the Watcher - and Buffy, who had class, dinner with friends and then Slaying - and William supposed it was better that that particular meeting happened in private. It had to be awkward to find out that your lover had forgotten you - William had met everyone.

Joyce had been at home for a few short hours, long enough to have dinner with William and Dawn, and the young Englishman had thought she was simply lovely. She was obviously a very caring person, looking after him as if he were her own and fussing over how young he looked - "You don't look a day over eighteen! I should try that spell, shave a few years off" she had laughingly joked - and she gave off an incredibly mothering vibe. At least, what he suspected was a mothering vibe. It may have been the vibe of a homicidal clown murderer for all he knew.

Of course, that part of the evening had to end. Joyce had a book club to attend, and Dawn wanted to go to a friends house. William was immensely grateful for her help during the day, surprised that she hadn't grown tired of him, and had added his support to her pleas. Dawn had seemed almost absurdly pleased at his support, and Joyce had cast her a curious look before granting the request.

After half an hour of watching the telly - one of the few things in his mind that had been unaltered, it seemed, by the spell had been his knowledge of the shows on television - he had decided to have another shower before going to bed.

Of course, he had to decided which bed he was going to be sleeping in. On one hand, he had woken in Buffy's bed and it was logical for him to return to sleep there. On the other hand, that mind send a message to Buffy that he was not fully prepared to send. He was sure that now, at least, he would want them to be married before resuming any... marital relations. William had decided that, regardless of what man he had been, he was going to be an honourable man now. So it was the couch for him.

Glad to have reached a decision, he turned off the shower and stepped out. While he was in the middle of reaching for a towel to dry himself off the door opened and revealed a short, attractive, athletic blonde who was staring at him grinning, seemingly unabashed at his nakedness. Buffy, he presumed. Still, he was moderately convinced that Anya would react to his nakedness in the same manner.

"Can I help you, miss...?" he asked as he felt his body flush hotly. This was not the ideal position to meet anyone in, he thought as he wrapped the towel around his waist tightly. The girl at the door continued to smile widely, almost disturbingly so.

"I'm Buffy, the Vampire Slayer. You're Spike!" the girl in the doorway declared. William goggled. At the name Spike he had an impression of bleach, leather and metal spikes. He briefly wondered what kind of kinky sex games - as Anya had so eloquently called them when talking about herself - he and Buffy had gotten up to, before deciding it was probably best he didn't know.

"Umm, yes. Buffy. I-You... I'm Spike?" William asked hesitantly, trying to approach the simpler questions first. Buffy nodded her head assuredly, smile still firmly in place.

"Yes," she declared in a tone far graver than the expression on her face would indicate, "you're an evil vampire turned in the late 19th century only now you can't hurt anyone because of a government chip in your head."

William stared at the diminutive girl still standing in the doorway blankly. It appeared they played a lot of role-playing games. "I- I am?"

"Yes. You are also in love with me, even though you have tried to hide it. You're very sexually attractive!" William backed away from Buffy very carefully despite the fact she was making no move towards him.

"Ah... yes. Umm, Buffy? Would you mind waiting in the lounge room for a minute? I think we need to talk."

As the pretty girl nodded and returned from where she came, William got dressed, his mind working frantically. He was not prepared for this.

* * *

**A/N:**_ I know, I know. It's pretty damn evil of me to have such a long chapter and do so very little in it, and to leave it there? Pure evil, I'm sure. Still, I've had both writer's block - in that I can't manage to express my ideas coherently anymore - and a whole lot of Real Life issues pop-up. It's really depressing and all, honest. Let's just say, an emotionally repressive boyfriend? Not so fun. Anyhoo, enough about my problems. I'll try to update faster but I am getting more pressure to update other fics. Also, I am aware that these messages of mine are long, probably useless and possibly unread but seeing as I don't actually have a whole lot else to do, suffer! I promise more Buffybot action in future, unless specifically and repeatedly asked not to do so. Review. Before I am tempted to take up Harry Potter fiction in an attempt to get more attention..._


	20. But I am Buffy

**A/N:**_ Okay, I received messages telling me that some of the previous chapter was not enjoyed. I appreciate the honesty, but unless I am told specifically why, I can't correct the problem. I'm all for constructive criticism people, but it would help if you're specific while you're doing it. Also, I may not be updating this fic for a little while. I won't stop, I love my regulars too much for that, but I think that I'll go where there is active interest. I like to bask in praise._

_Also, an impressively strong response against me writing Harry Potter fiction. I'm not sure whether it's because you all hate HP fics or because you think I'd stop the Buffy fics or because you think I'd suck at it or because of other, non-panda related reasons all together. Any which way, I'd like to know why. Knowledge is always helpful._

**Disclaimer:**_ I've said this five times already! Why won't you just listen to me? The shoes are not mine! I don't know how they got thrown through your window, but I wasn't even in town on Friday night! Get off my back about it!!_

_

* * *

_

**But I am Buffy**

Buffybot sat attentively in the chair and waited for Spike to come down. It was really very fortuitous that she ran into her once enemy now erstwhile ally. He could help her slay! Although, he did seem a little different. There was no bleach, or leather, which her programming assured her he was never without but who else could it be? He had the same aesthetically pleasing form.

Buffybot sat in the chair, waiting. She heard the keys at the front door long before the door opened and she turned to face the newcomer, hoping against hope it was a horrific demon to slay. She had been away from her three heroes for over an hour now, and she hadn't saved the world once! She was almost disappointed - almost - when she saw the newcomer was Joyce Summers.

"You're my mother" she declared with a broad smile. She continued to smile even when the older woman looked at her strangely.

* * *

"What did you do?" Joyce asked suspiciously. She hadn't seen Buffy smile this much since that time she had 'borrowed' the car and managed to mow down four letterboxes before destroying the car by wrapping it around a telephone pole when she was fifteen. Her suspicion only deepened when Buffy's smile remained unwavering.

"I slay and I save the world!" she declared cheerfully. Joyce's eyes narrowed. Buffy hadn't tried to pull that argument since she had lost Joyce's favourite necklace in her first year of college after having 'borrowed' it without asking. Whatever this was, it was bad.

Her attention was diverted by the sight of a slightly damp William descending the stairs with a nervousness she had never seen in the relatively timid young man. He shot wild eyes at Buffy before relaxing slightly when he noticed Joyce, even going so far as to smile a little. He was such a nice young man. It was nice to know that Dawn's current crush wasn't going to tempt her away and teach her to use drugs. If anything, the teenage girl would corrupt the young man.

"Mrs Summers, lovely evening, isn't it?" William asked, obviously unsure. His anxious gaze kept sliding to Buffy. Joyce sincerely hoped he never took up poker, because he seemed unable to lie. He obviously either knew what was up with Buffy or he was involved in it. Buffy smiled widely at William, who then looked even more nervous. Joyce turned a hard stare on her eldest.

"Yes, it is a lovely evening William" Joyce said levelly, before Buffy rapidly cut her off, confusion writ large on her face.

"He's not William, he's Spike!" she declared in a puzzled tone. William blanched visibly, casting a horrified glance at Joyce. The older woman looked at her daughter, concerned, before going to the phone. As she dialled the number, she wondered just what had gotten into her little girl.

* * *

Anya followed her fiancé, already bored with the situation before they got there. They lived on a Hellmouth, so you'd think that there would be some serious variety in the odd happenings. There wasn't. There was a strangely consistent amount of head hitting and memory loss and vampire bites. It was really depressing. Plus, Buffy had to face all of it, not just some of it. They were lucky she hadn't gone crazy before, really. She was an unstable girl.

She had been interrupted. She and Xander had been watching a movie, and Anya had been enjoying the experience. It had nothing to do with money or orgasms, and yet Anya had been enjoying herself. It had been... nice, comforting to rest in the crook of his arm and feel his chest move when he laughed. Of course, it was something you'd only do on a rare occasion. Nice it may be, but it didn't beat repeated orgasms.

The ex-demon trailed her husband-to-be into the Summers house listlessly, all too aware that this little visit to observe the crazy Slayer was cutting into her time. She could be doing many more useful, enjoyable things with this time. Like counting her money, or achieving orgasms, or counting her money again. As the pair entered the lounge room, Anya's ears perked.

"You're Willow, my best friend, and a lesbian!" Buffy's upbeat voice called out. Anya looked at the scene in the lounge room. Willow and Tara sat on the couch, both facing Buffy with concern in their eyes. Joyce stood, telling Xander something now, near the entry of the room and the pair threw worried glances towards Buffy. The now youthful William, still a very attractive specimen, was throwing panicked glances at the Slayer. Buffy smiled widely.

"Yes, that's true," Willow agreed in a careful tone, looking worried, "but I think you might be a bit stressed." Buffy's smile dimmed, a confused expression covering her features. The redhead sighed. "I'm not trying to judge you, here. It's just, I had no idea you've been having sex with William."

"I haven't had sex with William!" Buffy declared solemnly. There was a collective sigh of relief around the room. "But I would if he wanted to. You should see him naked! I mean, really."

There was a moment of horrified silence, in which everyone's gaze slowly turned to the now scarlet young man who sat on the opposite side of the room from the beaming Buffy. Strangely, only Anya's look was speculative. Everyone else's was unaccountably accusatory.

Xander gestured frantically at Willow, probably in what he thought were covert gestures and Anya took her place at Buffy's side.

"So you saw William naked?" Anya asked after a slight pause. Buffy smiled widely.

"Yes. He was very well proportioned and well endowed."

Buffy and Anya shared a massive smile, blissfully oblivious to the stares of shock, horror and in William's case, confused embarrassment.

* * *

Buffy wandered through the cemetery without any particular direction. Her life was, simply put, far too complicated. And so much of the complications in her life revolved around an annoying, irritating, stupid, bleach loving, leather wearing, liquor drinking, frustratingly sexy British vampire.

Spike had to run hot and cold all of the time, didn't he? One minute he's all sweet and caring, which is wiggy enough on it's own, then the next he's acting all offended and angry and growly and storming out. Because honestly, when you get down to it, who storms out anymore? And _then _he has to go and make things worse and get sick to make her feel all guilty, when vampires shouldn't even be able to get sick. Stupid vampire.

As she strolled amidst the grey tombstones, she heard the sound of an engine rumbling in the distance halt suddenly. That was a strange thing to hear in the middle of a cemetery in the middle of the night in the middle of Sunnydale. The Slayer wandered towards the sound, and before long a van was dimly visible.

She continued to approach it carefully and after a few tense moments, she saw three figures exiting the van and heading towards her.

"Oh, thank God. There she is" an almost familiar voice from the past called out. The figures started to jog towards her.

"I told you we'd find her, Sparky" another man's voice declared, this one completely unfamiliar. Buffy tensed, preparing to fight. Three mysterious figures looking for her in cemeteries could not be of the good. Buffy was shocked when the identity of the figures became visible.

Three people, all men. One was tall, with brown hair, a big nose and no fashion sense. Another was kind of average height, with sandy blond hair and a very nervous expression on his face. The other was very short, with close cropped dark hair. Jonathon Levinson.

"Jonathon?" Buffy asked, incredulity pasted all over her. Jonathon and the nervous boy both stopped and stared at Buffy in suspicion, but the third man kept approaching.

"Okay, _Buffy_, it's time to go home." Buffy shifted her glare to the boy now gripping her arm. The boy just rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Come on. I'll let you please me when we get home,"

Buffy shot the boy a black look at his attempted enticing tone. Jonathon and nervous-boy edged closer, looking at Buffy as though she might explode. They were obviously the smart ones.

"Uhh, Warren, I don't think that's-" the mousy boy tried to get out, but Warren just ignored him.

"Come on, _Buffy,_" the Slayer frowned at the odd emphasis he put on her name, "if you come home right now, I'll even let you pleasure me orally."

That was it. Buffy twisted her wrist and dislocated the smarmy, grabby boy's arm and immediately took off, in pursuit of the other two. Darting between headstones, the Slayer quickly caught up with the unknown man and a sliding kick into the back of his legs brought him toppling to the grass, screaming of a broken ankle. Buffy rolled her eyes. She hadn't heard or felt a snap.

Springing to her feet, she sprinted off after Jonathon who was still running despite his heavy panting. Terror seemed to be a great motivator for exercise. Buffy caught him after a very short time, and he surrendered the second he felt her hand on his shoulder. She spun him around and immediately noted his guilt ridden expression.

"We have a lot to talk about, Jonathon."

* * *

Spike groaned as he dragged himself off the floor. Whatever was making him feel so bad was getting worse. The stabbing pains had started shortly after he had left the Slayer and only gotten sharper and deeper in the last hour since they started.

He hated to admit it, but maybe the Slayer was right. Maybe he was sick, but that couldn't be. Vampires didn't get sick. Probably a spell, or a hex, or a curse or something supernatural. Dealing with the supernatural was the Slayer's business, too.

In his current condition, even Spike had to acknowledge that he'd be unable to find the Slayer without coming up against something nasty and being unable to defend himself, so he clambered down the ladder and set off through the underground tunnels towards the Summers home.

After a walk that seemed to take forever, even though Spike had only had to stop twice, both times because of the pain that seemed to be affecting him randomly, but he finally managed to emerge out of the sewers at the manhole down the road from 1630 Revello Drive. Spike staggered down the street before stumbling through the Slayer's door.

"Slayer?" he called out hoarsely, dropping to his knees when he felt the agonising burn of his unidentified attacks. When it was over, he weakly raised his head and saw something he had never expected to see but had been hoping to see for a year now. A concerned Buffy.

"Spike?" she asked tremulously, her expression immensely worried. Spike stared into the Slayer's eyes avidly, before nearly collapsing in despair.

"You're not Buffy"

* * *

Xander was freaking out. A whole lot of weird stuff had been going on lately. First there was that whole experience where he had been a woman. In retrospect, he probably shouldn't have been so shocked since he did live in Sunnydale, but still... Then they get turned back, everything is fine.

Only not. Something had gone wrong with William and he had come out of it a teenager. Again, Sunnydale ergo weirdness, but it was worrying. Aside from Spike, who didn't count because he was a vampire and Xander hated him, and Giles, who didn't count because he was old and British, William was the only male in the Scoobies. Xander needed more male friends to offset the corrupting female influence.

Then the next wiggy thing had happened. Anya had decided against counting her money when the alternative had nothing to do with money, weddings or orgasms. She had decided to watch a movie with him. One that didn't revolve around vengeance, money or sex. That probably should have warned Xander about future badness.

Then there had been the call from Joyce, saying he might want to come around because something seemed wrong with Buffy. He and Anya'd rushed around and come face to face with something he had never feared before, and now realised was one of his biggest. Buffy had gone crazy. There was no other explanation for it. The pressure of school and slayage had finally caught up to her and she'd cracked.

He'd never thought she would though. She was so strong. Only now she was all over everyone. He was even fairly sure that he had seen her batting her eyelashes at her mom! And besides that, she had started to talk like Anya, and not just in the constant way she compared the sexuality or sensuality of the different men... and women.

Then, icing on the cake, Spike had burst into the house calling for Buffy. When everyone had gone to see what was wrong with him, they had found him collapsed on the floor just in the door, writhing in pain. Then Buffy had tried to see if he was all right, and he had said she wasn't Buffy before grunting and squirming on the floor again. Then he passed out.

Xander and William had carried Spike down the stairs into the basement, depositing him on the cot where William stayed to watch over the vampire and report any dramatic change. Xander had gone back upstairs and everyone had sat around the room in awkward silence, wishing Giles were there. The silence in the room stretched out, and everyone watched one another, waiting for inspiration to strike. This was normally where Buffy took charge, only now she was looking as distressed, if not more so, than everyone else. It was disheartening, to say the least.

Then, another shock arrived. The front door was shoved open, from the sound of the loud bang (Xander winced on hearing this. Ever since his job in construction started, he was generally opposed to any destruction of property) and Buffy's voice had echoed through the doorway, despite the fact that Buffy was on the couch.

"Mom? There's a robot version of me running around and she's... here" Buffy trailed off as she turned the corner and came face to face with herself. The two Buffys looked at one another, before the one who had been at the house all night smiled broadly.

"You look like me! We're very pretty"

* * *

"I see. And you all thought that the disturbing, smiling, freaky sexbot was me?" Buffy asked, obviously not impressed in the slightest. Willow felt her face flush hotly, and noticed everyone else looked just as uncomfortable. Particularly Joyce.

"Well, kinda. Dawn didn't know, she's at Janice's" Willow informed her best friend guiltily. She felt really bad that she hadn't noticed it before, really. The sexbot had been nothing like the real Buffy, personality wise. Actually, it had been a lot like Anya.

"How could you guys think that was me?" Buffy asked, staring at the now turned off robot. "I mean, look at it." Everyone in the room wisely chose not to comment on the fact that, excluding the different clothes and hair styles, the pair were identical. "Anyway, the guys who made it are in jail right now. Can you believed they robbed a bank?"

Everyone turned suddenly as William popped out of the basement door, his mouth frozen mid-word when he noticed the pair of Buffys. Willow noted the truly panicked expression on the boy's face. Buffy rolled her eyes.

"Evil sexbot, not me." she explained succinctly, William nodded, seeming slightly mollified but he was still looking at Buffy with a haunted expression on his face.

"I thought I should mention it, Spike seems to be in a lot of pain nearly constantly now." He delivered calmly, but Willow could see that he was barely holding himself together. The poor fella was absolutely freaked.

"Wait? What's wrong with Spike?"

* * *

**A/N:**_ I'm so very evil. Mwahahahaha. Okay, enough of that. We find out what happened to Spike soon, so don't pester me too much about it. I think I'm nearing the end of this fic, too. I suspect there will only be a handful more of chapters, but I do hope to create a longer sequel in the future. I just want to have that one planned out a little more to avoid writer's block. I was basically winging this one, flying by the seat of my pants so to speak. So review, let me know what you think, what you feel, smother me in praise, whatever feels right. Just REVIEW!_


	21. What the hell is going on?

**A/N:**_ I got a good bit of inspiring support for the last chapter, and knowing the end of Crushed is coming has inspired me to write a little faster. Also, I have had several pleas for the Nerd Trio, and I'm not leaving them there. They will be back for the sequel, or at the very least Andrew will. Gotta love those little guys. Also, if anybody reads this fic and likes it, leave a review. It doesn't have to be deep or insightful, it just lets me know you like it._

**Disclaimer:**_ I've been thinking. I think William is actually mine. I mean, sure he's based off a character in the Buffyverse, but really, we didn't know anything about him except a few minor things that don't really matter. I created him. I am his GOD! It's pretty cool, really._

_

* * *

_

**What the hell is going on?**

Buffy followed William, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Spike would be okay. He would have to be okay. Nothing killed that vampire, or even stopped him long. Buffy hadn't managed to do it. Hell, a church organ dropped directly on him hadn't been enough to finish him completely. So he would be perfectly fine. He had to be. Buffy wasn't sure if she could take it if he wasn't..

As she, William and Dawn descended the stairs, their footsteps echoed loudly in the panicked silence. By the time she was in the basement, she had a feeling of trepidation she hadn't felt since the night the Master killed her. She kept saying everything would be fine, but deep down she didn't quite believe it

When she saw Spike's groaning, thrashing form she felt fear clutch her throat and her breath left her. Her worry became almost a physical thing, almost overwhelming in it's intensity. The backs of her eyes felt like they were burning, and Buffy was even further horrified when she heard what he was murmuring in his pained delusions.

"...Buffy..."

The choked despair the Slayer felt when she heard the muttered plea jolted her out of her malaise. Suppressing her urge to panic blindly, she turned and sprinted up the stairs again, all too aware that Spike probably didn't have too long to go, especially since he'd been getting worse as time went on over the last two days. Buffy entered the dining room, where her friends, her family, sat, waiting for direction.

"Okay, we don't have much time guys. Spike's getting worse." Buffy's eyes raked around the room, looking at the people she loved. "Giles, I want you to call the Council. They might not want to help. Make them" The Watcher nodded solemnly. "Xander, Anya. I want you guys, and Dawn and William as well, to start researching. Get Giles to tell you where, but find out what could be causing this."

"On it" Xander assured her, before he and his fiancé moved to speak to Giles.

"Willow, Tara. I want you two to see what you can do on the magic front. See if you can stop what's hurting him, or slow it down. Also, see if you can speak to some of your friends and check the 'net, see if you can get some idea as to what it is."

The lesbian Wicca nodded, Tara heading down to the basement and Willow going to get her laptop out of the car. Buffy began to walk out of the front door, before her mother called out.

"Buffy, what should I do?" Buffy hesitated, looking at her mom.

"Make him as comfortable as you can," she said, grabbing her jacket from the door and picking up an axe she kept near the stairs for an emergency.

"What are you going to do?" Joyce asked, watching her daughter with worried eyes. Buffy didn't even look back as she strode out the front door.

"I'm going to get some answers."

* * *

Willy, owner and proprietor of The Alibi Room, liked to think he was a smart man. Sadly, he was not, but he was a survivor. Any human who ran a demon bar for nine years and still had all his or her limbs attached had to be. However, there was one thing that Willy was not good at doing. Predicting the extremes some people will go to when they're desperate. If he had been better at it, he may not have mistaken the mood of the Slayer so grievously.

She burst the door the his bar open, splintering the wood on one side and dislodging the door from two of it's three hinges, warping the third. Willy winced. Those doors were not easy to replace, and he was beginning to wonder why he bothered. Whenever the Slayer wanted information, she just kicked it open. Hell, if he didn't make so much money from his clientele he wouldn't even be able to rebuild after the frequent brawls.

Still, as he had a reputation to uphold, Willy just kept wiping the dirty glass clean and took no notice of the Slayer, or anyone else. If he had been paying attention, he would have noticed how quickly the demons in his bar were clearing out, none of them wanting to be anywhere near the Slayer when the rage she was holding in came flooding out.

Before he realised what was going on, the Slayer had vaulted over the bar and was vigorously pressing his head into the grimy bar with almost all her preternatural strength.

"Ow! What's going on, Slayer?" Willy asked in a pathetic whine, spots already appearing in front of his eyes. The pressure holding him onto the bar lessened slightly, but the Slayer's fingers tightened on the back of his neck.

"There was a brawl here, the other night. I want to know who was in it that could seriously hurt a vampire" the Slayer said, her voice all fire and steel. As was said earlier, however, Willy was not a smart man.

"What's in it for me?" he asked insolently, before squealing when Buffy gripped his right wrist and twisted, hard, shattering all the bones in the joint. The remaining demons in the bar ran through the remains of the door, scrambling to get out. The Slayer was in a lethal mood.

"You get to live" Buffy said in a much too friendly tone. Yet still Willy persisted.

"Y-you're the Slayer," he wheezed through the pain. "You don't kill humans" Buffy wrenched on his shattered wrist sharply, leaning in to his head.

"Right now, I'm willing to make an exception" she hissed dangerously, letting go of his broken wrist and pulling the small axe from the waistband of her pants, and laying it next to the small man's face. Willy gulped, finally beginning to grasp the levity of the situation.

"There were... a lot of... demons... here the... other night" Willy gasped, his vision blurring slightly from the pain of his decimated wrist. Buffy conceded this point with a tight nod, the bedlam had been insane, but tightened her grip on his neck perceptibly. Beads of sweat broke out on the bartender's forehead.

"New demons in town that were in the brawl, things that haven't been here before" Buffy clarified, lessening the death grip on Willy's neck to make sure he could tell her what she needed to know.

"There were two customers who fit your wants, Slayer. A Nelmecht and a Kungai. They were both in the brawl, and they were both dead at the end"

"You'd better be telling me the truth," Buffy said in a low voice.

"I am! I am!" Willy sought to assure her desperately. He let out a sigh of relief when the Slayer let go of his neck completely, before she gripped his head and slammed it hard against the bar, knocking him out.

* * *

"It's either a Kungai or a Nelmecht" Buffy called out as she re-entered her home. All of her friends and her sister came running, having heard Buffy return.

"What was that?" Giles asked, reaching for a book, ready to begin searching.

"A Kungai, or a Nelmecht" Buffy restated. Anya's eyes narrowed.

"Look up a Nelmecht and hope for the best," Anya stated grimly. "Kungai use their horn to absorb their enemy, and gain their power" The ex-vengeance demon looked at each of the Scoobies. "It's always fatal."

Buffy felt the panic begin to rise again as the Scoobies began to rapidly scan through the books for any trace of a Nelmecht demon. She hadn't been back five minutes and already the possibilities of finding a cure for Spike had been halved. To make her problem worse, she felt a wave of hopelessness wash over her. She'd never been good at the book stuff, preferring to get her information with her fists.

After a time had passed, Buffy wasn't sure whether it was a long time or if it only seemed to take forever, she decided to head down stairs. She plodded down the stairs with lead feet, fearing irrationally that he wouldn't be there.

She saw her mom sitting on the cot next to a Spike now too weak to spasm, a look of intense pain on his face. Joyce looked up at Buffy compassionately, pityingly.

"I think he's getting worse, sweety."

Buffy nodded weakly, her eyes prickling and the back of her throat burning. It wasn't supposed to be like this. He wasn't supposed to die. He was a vampire, they're supposed to be immortal unless the Slayer gets them.

"I think I've found something!" Xander's voice drifted down from the dining room. Buffy and Joyce shared a look, before they both made their way rapidly up the stairs. They arrived to see Xander handing the book to Giles.

"Well, what did you find?" Dawn asked impatiently. Giles rearranged his glasses.

" 'The Nelmecht, a demon of South American origin, it was worshipped by several early tribes for it's mystical properties. While inherently a herbivore, the Nelmecht is very territorial and prone to violence to any other demon that encroaches on it's territory.' " Giles paused, reading ahead.

"Hurry up, Giles. Is it helpful?" Buffy asked, exasperated.

"Oh dear Lord." Giles murmured, wiping his glasses clean. Everyone felt the trickle of dread travel down there spine at that usual harbinger on apocalypse. "'While not nearly as strong as even a common vampire, the Nelmecht's greatest asset lies in it's highly toxic venom, fatal to almost all things. It is the main base ingredient in the poison, Killer Of The Dead.' "

Everyone shared a shocked look. The poison that Faith had shot Angel with in their Senior year, the poison that killed the dead, killed vampires. Worse still, the only cure for the Killer Of The Dead was the blood of a Slayer. Buffy felt numb terror, as bad as she had when she had found out it had happened to Angel.

The Scoobies sat stunned, tension filling the room. This was bad. Very bad.

* * *

**A/N:**_ I really am a sadist. There haven't been too many chapters of this where someone isn't dying or injured or hurt. Ah well, no-one else has noticed... Only one more chapter to go, methinks. Maybe two, if I can't get it done, but we're nearing the end here people. I know that this chapter was pretty short, considering my usual, but I can't help myself. I love leaving you guys and gals in suspense._

_On the plus side, I've got a lot of good (I think) ideas for the sequel, which is still yet to be named, and I've got two betas for it to keep me on track. So who knows, maybe next time it'll be finished even faster, even if I do say that this is a fairly impressive turn out. I mean, in 2 - 3 months I've managed to post up over 100,000 words on FFnet. I'm a veritable writing machine._

_But I do it all for reviews, so review already. REVIEW! I don't care if you don't say anything more than 'hi, I've been reading your fiction'. Consider reviews my payment. If you read this, and don't review, that's stealing._


	22. Momentous Times

**A/N:**_ Well, I think this is it for Crushed. Amazing as it is, my second fic is ending. It's a sad time, and a happy time. It's also a little surreal, as I'm finishing my second (and much longer) fic before my first, but whatever. I want to send a shout out to a few people who've supported me the whole time but there are so many of you, and I don't want to miss any of you, it'll just have to be a generic thank you. Review this final chapter. If there is enough demand, I may get started on the sequel pretty much right away as opposed to my current plan to shelf it in favour of finishing a pair of my other fics._

_**SQUEEEE! This story has been nominated at the Love's Last Glimpse Awards for Best Saga. **_

Whoever nominated me, I love you. Of course, I would not object to others nominating me or any of my stories for any award. Call me shallow like that, if you will. I'll still want the award.

**Disclaimer:**_ Hah! I laugh in the face of the people with the correct rights to this. I've been writing this fic since the 23rd of July and have never done anything vaguely resembling a decent disclaimer and the supposedly mighty evil monkey army that attack those who betray or steal from Joss Whedon are yet to show. I'm beginning to doubt their wrath..._

* * *

**Momentous Times**

The tension in the room was palpable. William wasn't sure who this Angel fellow was, but even he felt the fear and the worry that everyone else felt for the vampire. He hadn't been as shocked as he'd imagined when they mentioned he had a vampire self, nor when they explained how he was something of a time traveller. He assumed they were things he had accepted before the spell that made him forget. As it was, William was the least surprised and the most surprised when Buffy spoke.

"Then I'll let him feed from me" she announced calmly, despite her pale face. William had long since decided that he would just accept things as they were, so after he got over the initial surprise of her letting a vampire feed from her, it seemed perfectly in character for the heroic Buffy. At least it did from what he'd been told. It appeared that the others didn't quite see it the same way.

"What? Are you crazy?" Xander nearly exploded. "I don't want him to die, either, but he's a vampire! And evil, soulless vampire!" The Slayer turned and faced Xander directly.

"Who loves me."

"He can't love, Buffy! He doesn't have a soul!"

The two friends stared at each other, Xander's face a mixture of confusion and anger juxtaposed sharply by Buffy's calm, collected demeanour. Surprisingly, it was Tara who spoke next, not Buffy.

"An evil soulless vampire who protected Dawnie under torture." Everyone stared at the blonde witch in surprise. She never spoke up at these meetings. Xander opened his mouth to argue further, and Giles cut him off.

"Regardless, this is not Killer Of The Dead. This is just one of the main ingredients." Giles cleaned his glasses briefly, before placing them on his nose once again. "There is nothing to say that, even were you to let Spike feed from you, he would be healed."

"I have to try," Buffy said, her voice not quite masking the complex emotions underneath.

"Do you trust him?" Joyce asked quietly. Buffy smiled at her mother tremulously and nodded. Joyce smiled wanly in response, before going into the kitchen and returning with a few handtowels. Buffy began her trek down to the basement, followed by Joyce, Dawn and a curious William, the others either not wanting to see or not wanting to intrude or, in Anya's case, not being able to because of the four people preventing her from following.

When she reached the bottom floor, Buffy walked over and sat on the cot, next to Spike. The vampire whimpered slightly and shifted. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, the Slayer picked up the vampire's head and held it to her neck. After a long moment, Buffy let out a breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding when Spike hadn't bitten her.

"Bite me, Spike" she whispered to him. She was surprised when the vampire shook his head, albeit weakly. "Do it!"

"...Buffy..." he murmured in a plaintive tone, still shaking his head softly. Buffy felt her heart melt at the same time it was seized in fear. While a touching and reassuring thought that Spike refused to feed, even when almost completely out of it, she was more worried that he would die if he didn't feed. In her panic, she reacted in the same fashion that had always managed to provoke his demon. She punched him.

With a snarl, Spike's demon face exploded forth, yellow eyes flashing, and still the vampire didn't attack or try to feed. Buffy could see that he wanted to, and at the same time he was stopping himself. Stopping himself for her. She bit her lip hard, and was rewarded with the metallic scent of her blood. As she'd hoped, this sent Spike into a weak frenzy, and when Buffy arched her neck, he lunged in.

Buffy's feeling of triumph evaporated when, instead of sharp fangs in her neck, she heard a pained roar. Her eyes snapped open and saw the vampire writhing in pain, pushing his head back into the pillow. The chip. They'd forgotten, in all the panic and fear, they'd forgotten he had a government built lock on his demon. He was unable to hurt any human, or attempt to, without intense pain.

"Get a knife!" she barked at her sister, who bolted up the stairs. Buffy stroked Spike's head, smoothing his hair, while she waited for her sister to return. Spike's moans lowered to whimpers, and were ceasing completely when a breathless Dawn returned with a knife. Gripping the knife tightly in her left hand, Buffy slash vertically down her right wrist, hissing in pain before pressing the now bleeding wound to the vampire's mouth.

Feeding from an already wounded person seemed possible and didn't set off the chip, as Buffy felt an unsettling, slightly unpleasant rush through her body. It felt as though someone were vacuuming her insides, which given that a vampire was sucking her blood from a cut on her wrist was not entirely inaccurate.

She felt the pulls become stronger and lengthier as Spike regained some semblance of control and reprieve from his pain, and she began to feel light-headed and a little dizzy.

* * *

The sound of blood pumping near Spike's ear had reminded him how long it had been since he'd fed from a human, through the fog of pain that he was in. He felt an intense urge to feed when the pulse that sang to him so beautifully was pushed against his lips. One thought stopped him from feeding. Buffy. His Golden Goddess, his lovely Slayer. If he fed from a human, she'd never be his. It'd prove what she'd said all along, that he was evil, that he didn't deserve to touch her.

So he restrained himself. Even when something struck him in the face, and he felt himself respond with rage, his game face coming on, ready to rend and tear. Then, cruelly, the pulse had been jammed in front of his unseeing face, and it was all the harder to resist with his demon so close to the surface. So hard to restrain himself with his implements of feeding at hand.

Still, he'd resisted. For Buffy, to be worthy of her respect if he could never have her love. He'd take what he could get. But when the sharp, alluring, metallic smell of blood had permeated the air, not even Spike's formidable will could withstand the pressure. He surged forward, guided by smell and sound, only to have his pain tripled when the chip fired, igniting with blue-white pain in his skull.

Then he'd felt a warm hand running through his hair, soothing him and his pain, a bittersweet torture with the intoxicating scent of blood in the air. He'd allowed himself to be eased, the gentle rhythm against his skull relaxing.

Then the sharp, mouth watering scent of fresh, human blood saturated the air, Spike felt all peace he had gained from the head stroking disappear in an instant. He was immensely surprised when he felt a warm arm, sticky, sweet blood flowing copiously pressed against his mouth.

He did what all vampires do. He drank. The blood was intoxicating, like hard liquor to someone who had been forced to drink unclean water for years, nearly overpowering him in every sense of the word. With every pull of the blood, each one deeper than the last, he felt the pain receding and his awareness being restored.

He began to savour his first live human blood since the Initiative caught him. Female, he noted. Young, strong. He'd had blood like this before. He was filled with nearly mindless terror when he remembered where. Slayer blood, in the Boxer Rebellion. Which meant he was feeding from Buffy.

His eyes opened sharply, and he saw the Slayer. Dropping her wrist, he stared when the blood continued to flow, staining the white sheets red. His mind barely working, he looked around blindly for something, anything to stop the bleeding. He looked up into Joyce's concerned face as she handed him a tea-towel.

Spike frantically used the small hand-towel as a bandage, wrapping it around the Slayer's wound firmly, before hefting her body up in his arms with newly restored strength. He ran up the stairs with staring eyes. He caught a familiar scent as he emerged from the basement.

"Watcher!" he called out hoarsely, panicking in the extreme. When Giles, Xander, Anya, Willow and Tara all appeared, looking with shocked expressions between him and the limp, listless form of the Slayer in his arms, Spike looked outside. It was nearly dawn. "She needs a hospital. I can't get her there."

Giles and Xander rushed forward silently to carry Buffy between them to the car, and everyone in the house followed except Spike, forced to stay in the house due to the rays of sunlight just now slanting across the horizon. Spike watched as the bevy of cars drove away, heading to the hospital with all the Slayer's friends and family in tow. When they were out of sight, he dropped to his knees, tears welling in his eyes which he refused to let fall.

* * *

William sat in the back seat of Mrs Summers' car as they drove back to their home. Not his home, he had found out, he was staying with the inestimable Mr Giles, but seeing as Rupert had left his car at the Summers home, and seeing as he would not abandon his Slayer so soon after getting released form the hospital no matter how much she insisted he did, he, William and Dawn were in the back seat of Joyce's Jeep Cherokee Sport, with Buffy and Joyce in the front seat.

Buffy had woken shortly after they had arrived at the hospital, obviously unhappy to be there. The doctors had examined her and diagnosed her with severe blood loss, and ordered her to get bed rest. After being assured that Spike had seemed perfectly fine, they had managed to keep Buffy in the hospital until after lunch, when she had finally declared she was getting out of the hospital.

Joyce had signed Buffy out of the hospital while the Slayer assured her friends that she would be fine, and that they should go get something to eat and get some sleep. After a lot of protestation, they eventually acquiesced as Joyce returned, so it was merely the Summers' and the Giles' who were returning to the Summers home.

The car gently rolled to a stop and an anxious Slayer hopped out of the car and hurried to the house, followed more sedately by her family and friends. William entered the door behind the Summers women, and immediately felt like he had stepped into another world or something similar.

The air was thick with tension between the Slayer and the vampire, Spike still on his knees where he'd dropped hours ago. He looked at Buffy with haunted, apologetic eyes and guilt written in his very posture. William couldn't see much of Buffy as her back was to him, but her tiny form was tight with tension.

Joyce and Rupert tactfully left the room, heading to the kitchen to prepare some lunch for the children, but both Dawn and William stood where they were, just inside the doorway, riveted to the scene unfolding before them.

Spike slowly rose to his feet, his face carefully guarded and eyes glassy with unshed tears. He took half a step towards Buffy, which she mirrored, and stopped, only a small space between them.

"Why?" he asked, his voice ragged with emotion. There was a taut moment, Spike's question hanging heavily in the air, when Buffy took a step forward, stood on the tips of her toes, grasped the back of his neck and pulled him down, pressing her lips softly to his. After the brief kiss, she tilted her head slightly, smiling gently at the bewildered look on Spike's face.

"Because... I love you," she murmured softly. Spike looked at her blankly for a moment, obviously not wanting to even hope that this was real, and his eyes darted quickly to the bandage on her arm. When his eyes met hers, and saw the truth of her words written there, he grasped her shoulders and pulled her to him, eyes dancing with joy as he pressed their mouths together again.

William felt a small, warm hand slip into his own and he looked at Dawn, startled. She smiled at him, before leading him from the hallway into the kitchen where Joyce and Rupert were waiting. Taking a seat at the bench, next to Dawn, he noted dimly that her hand was still in his, and he didn't mind in the slightest.

* * *

_**.:End:.**_

* * *

**A/N:**_ My final Author's Notes for Crushed. Disappointed? Angry? Happy? Sad? Let me know in a review... _

_There will be a sequel, unless I suddenly die or something of similar nature. I also want to apologise fairly profusely for not having done anything with Two Weeks. I referenced a lot of these last chapters to what will be happening in that fic eventually, when I get around to it. So review, let me know what you think of the ending, my writing, my story or me personally. Solid reader response inspires me to begin now, rather than later._


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